I sit up at night and write down my rainy days <br />In an effort to end the drought my life has taken <br />Believing flowers will grow in the cemetery <br />If I could just get them to take a drink <br />Plastic flowers pollinated with ash and earth <br />Smelling of death and dying sentiments <br />Generational deformity <br />Takes hold and strangles the life out of me <br />As the fruit of my tree and loins <br />Runs down the leg of my family tree <br />And puddles in the polished shoes <br />Of some other poor dumb dead bastard <br />Dressed up in his Sunday best <br />With pennies under his lids <br />And maggots in his gut <br />Eating him inside out as opposed to outside in… <br />His scars unhealed but preserved by the formaldehyde <br />He injected in his youthful foolish way <br />Before he finally understood <br />That just because it is beautiful <br />It doesn’t mean it’s good <br />I sit up at night and write down my rainy days <br />In an effort to put an end to the drought my life has taken… <br /> <br />2007 © T Sheridan<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/buried-sun-dried-tomatoes-wearing-shoes/
