Straight-Arming Death Poem by Bryan Taplits

No wonder Death stalks us
Even though It most likely doesn't know our names,
It seeks a warm body that it can buss
Which after, the departed is left never the same.
The cadaver now rests in its casket
-with arms that no longer will hug-
Lying at attention for all eternity-
A fount for rising memories-
And, a feast for hungry and lively interred bugs.
So what is the lesson that can be inferred from these swarmed bites-
And the cemetery's funereal obsequies,
Just this: While we eventually all will lose our last fight-
With hope and sorrow's omnipresent presence,
we will never lose all of our fleas.