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


The active child is, for our purposes,
Death's refutation.
Chaos refuting entropy.
Starbursts of astonishment, self-creating:
Sherbet cosmologies,
Blamslam patterns
Bursting from her seamlets,
Going forth to conquer.
From her ninety-nine infinities
She diasporas,
Populating her planet.
One and none makes ninety.
My lethal conditions,
My unappeased fingernail syndrome,
My afabricated blotting paper psychosis,
My case of turnip's scurf and lugwumps,
Fall off their get-well-soon cards
And forget themselves.
She cleos her patras and is empress,
Commanding, demanding,
Coming, like it or not.
She is life at the crescendo,
Her own firebird suite,
Her trademark now,
Her patent the burning moment.
She is her own one-woman motorbike gang,
Marauding flowers
On her titchy little three-wheeled plastic bike.
She is Miss Trophy Triumphant,
Miss Tomato Thief,
Mistress of the flower-stealing grin.
She is someone's daughter,
The one who continues,
The one who does not die.
She is mine.
She is the intolerable demand, the no-can-cope,
Forcing a larger existence,
Like it or not.
Caught in the incandescence of her expanding star
I have not the option to be cinders.
Fortunately, there is help.
Grinding up the steak was a great idea
For the delinquent daughter.
For this and many more —
You know the score —
A truly thank you.