bog bodies
greys and apple hues
line the festival of coffins
for the old bog bodies.
they’ve been found
after all these years.
still intact, the troopers. ssh,
they’re speaking
confessing (to) their killers.
stop your nuclear arms race, they say,
start giving free back massages
to anyone, to your children. life
is short! love while you can!
smile indiscriminately at dogs
and attractive people!
stop the parade, we don’t like sermons.
stay quiet, you old muckies.
