Link to click to read death poems which are part of the literary writings in the book called THIS IS A PICTURE OF YOUR GOD: A HUGH COOK READER

ICE CREAM BRAIN


Ice cream
Is no violinist,
Cannot play the triangle.
Looking on the Taj Mahal you know
That this was made to melt.
And does so.
Decay moded,
My dissolution tumbrels,
Confusing
Maisy with Miffy,
Pol Pot with Madonna.
In the slobber of syllables
The tongue counts itself
And finds no number.