Fur

My neck is warm, too hot- almost

The fur is a dyed, pure rabbit lined scarf

Poufs of pink and burgundy

Lining my neck like blood grown dark with time

An ancient death too stark

For someone like me- or anyone else to rewind

So why not allow my head to hover above my shoulders

Cut in two by the static comfort

Of something I myself had not done,

but shamefully inherited

A rabbit’s tail is not like a cartoon,

by the way

It isn’t just a puffy circular cloud

Something that trails the end of a zipper

At a high end store,

A trinket, an emblem,

a status I stole from the thrift store

You wouldn’t think I ever kept a rabbit for a pet

But I have, and I did for over a decade

Only when Mr.Bunny died

The dirt in our backyard became his final, no-

his finest vestment yet

And I too hope to one day line

My own body with such fine,

Pungent and refined a testament

As a meaningfull death

Author's Note

this poem makes me think "yikes"

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

interesting...kind of dark .. even with the bunny hopping about ;) this line:
"So why not allow my head to hover above my shoulders" captivates my attention ... makes me ponder ... your title and first line kind of threw me off a little ..onto a sensual road ... so that lends a certain sexuality to the whole poem ... i suppose to some death has some sexuality to it ..never thought about that .. but maybe ... and i appreciate the change from final to finest .. a certain reverence for the earth ... lots of stuff in this one ... i think it will stick to me for a while
E.

[penguin]

You are a very good storyteller. i like your style, and it flows well. good poem.

[poetgurl]

such a sad write really, like the flow of this write too

[Unspoken poet]

Oh wow! I kinda like this, meaningless death kinda sad. enjoyed the read.

[Lucia]

thank you! what matters most to me is that people enjoyed their time because of something I was able to provide!