Spare the End

And the cemetery was what it’s always been: waiting to be explored— all the bones beneath our feet forgotten about before this chore of unearthing great, great grandfathers crib dead distant cousins outlawed in-laws divorced twice removed like a rotten regenerating tooth! Don’t think the dead can’t speak! Though their tongues are tied like tubes to those who refuse to accept ancestral truth, they will prophesy to progeny who want a peak at what’s above or below or at some middle stage where Dante dared to go— has gone? Crack what’s bound. Raise the dead. Write the truth and spare the end. May 21, 2016 “And the Cemetery Was” Contest