I befriended Death

I befriended Death

After all these years

I sat with Them and it finally all made sense

Death is our best comrade

Who else would root more for our life

Harder (the case might be made) than we would ourselves

We have been taught to fear so much

For the sake of holding up Empire

Our ancestors would be in disbelief

Fear of tigers might make some sense

And even then they’d figured out how to live with care with such beasts

But all the fears we now fear


They’d laugh

Our fear in exchange for tithes

Our freedom for pretty glass cathedrals

Throw a stone at them

For a chance to maraud with Death

Who else could love us more?

We are so much more beyond this physical world

We may not know

But They do with no hesitation

We’d simply become something else

It is as a gardener that tends plants

Every stage is as poignant

And might be missed by ignorance and interruptions

As I missed my mother’s great change and probably something of too many years of my own


I invite you to my Death bed

I know not all of you would be around or free to come

Some of you might even be conflicted

(Come if you love me still)

I’d hope you’d be with me in this life too

But it’s all just so many transitions

Difficult to keep up

We can forgive each other

But I hope you come

You will find me in a forest

A small bed I’d have made to lay on

In dappled sun

I’ll pass in an early summer

Amongst beautiful oaks and sycamore trees

Tall tall with the lightest blue above them

Knowing the joy of the following day

But being in absolute contentment with this one as the last one I’ll know in this sentient state

I may be achy in my bones

I’d have you pet me

There, there, you might say

I’d have you sprinkle fragrant herbs preserving my now inert state so I won’t stink when latecomers may or may not arrive too late

One of you will make me a flower garland

Some of you will sing sweet songs to me

I will eat some dal or soup

We’d play like you always play when you’re with me

It is always so laidback so easy

I’d have just enough savings to deal with the State so you won’t have to

But what happens with a body anyways when it leaves no blood or kin in its civically recognized stead

Burn me in an amazon box for all I care

The viking’s send off seems fair

I hope by then one of you becomes a decent archer


The bones that are left?

Bury them in that forest somewhere

I trust you’d know the place they’ll rest

Without state permission

Cuz you’d know I’m a punk through to the end

No markers no nothing

I’m Dead!


Would you know I’ve made it to my fourth decade without ever seeing a dead body

Those of birds and rats, mangled bodies of deers, raccoons hit… even an armadillo, yes

On your way to meet me, pick up the dead

Expired on roads back to me

Ceremony them with me

with the same herbs

With my bones

May their bodies make mine as significant

In all honesty even if none of you can make it

I hope to have enough means and wherewithal to find a spot in that lovely forest grove

Dig myself a hole, build myself a loft that would collapse into the grave shortly after I expire

I’ll place those sweet herbs on myself

And think on you all

How we tried so hard to love in this world

I’ll be weeping

And then

at rest

expire in peace

(I don’t wish to be a martyr

nor wish that for any of you

The State won’t get us)


Didn’t I say already

I’m the end of a line

Nothing to it

When Death is your friend


recitation at MassNOW gallery on menstruation