Rattlesnake

She said 

even after it's head 

had been removed 

with one swift sweep 

of the gas man's shovel,

it still moved in the dust

twitched, and was still

twitched, and was still

reaching, hoping, grieving

etching symbols 

like fatal Sanskrit

chewing nothing

rubbing grains into its wounds

leaking it's salt and water 

into the ground

(what a waste, what a waste,

she weeps)

lowered into it's grave

with the same shovel

headless harmless and 

yawning eternal

it moved, in on itself

as the dirt rained down

twitched, and was still

twitched...

and hearing about it

I thought

damn 

just look what happens

when the gas man 

swings his shovel, America

we better learn to regrow

our spine

our head

our spark

or be soft

stop our spiraling

death thrashes

and wait for dirt

and the dark