Death 'Married' Death To Death Poem by James McLain

Death looks at a flower and you screaming,
I am beautiful, look, look..
look here I am, come and eat me, alive.
Death hovers, smiling, never waiting, walking always
walking by, walking in side, you knowing that,
any thing that touches, it will soon also, come to *sigh*.
Death is love, love is death, what are you both, death
is your pet pink pig and deaths two flying bagged pearls.
Slapping you for ever and ever about your red face.
Death is a dry cracked nipple, sleeping, holding on
to the flesh untill it falls off, still dripping.
Death is a bullet fixed, never moving, why does the
world move you through it.
Death is a voice always quite, sounding alarms to
walk across the street knowing you look both ways,
while you come running very quickly out across,
just to stop in the middle and wait.
Death is a woman, who is crazy, thinking the world is
spinning into her coffee.
Death to all men who think they can save each woman
by marring death and eating her tuna fish sandwich.
Death fingered you, you loved it, now you finger me,
leaving my bee exposed on the flower, you buzzed it.
Death's own flower is always sweet and poignant on you..
It is always open for death to smell..............
and it's red alarms, you ignored...
still here it comes, never alone....to see you as you really are....