This poem
will outlive them.
The iridescent tracks
of tiny saffron snails
will outlive them,
as will the children
learning to ride
their bicycles,
and the dogs
with poop-zoomies.
I will not
outlive them,
but this poem
will, as will
you, reading.

Poems—@forgottenrunes @patriciancom @nounsdao Prose @nftnow @accelerateart and everywhere ✍️ She/her Punk6825 ❤️my channel: /whining Socialist🌹

Write that on
my grave,
and where
the snail
marks my name,
kiss it. Where
there are mouse-husks,
bury them at
my bony feet. Where
there are brambles,
plant them.
Make them
into rainbow wine,
which will
mellow into
nectar. Drink
and sing,
because we
will fucking
outlive them.

This poem
is a baton,
a burning brand,
and it is
animated by
the living Word
of God.
The Almighty,
rebuked, wrestled
with, knife-threatened,
sacrificed and
resurrected,
will fucking
outlive them.
What absolute
nuts it is
to be chased.