His Skin & Bones

By Godot

His Skin & Bones

Aye, boys, his breath went out at last;
we shall not squander bronze and granite
on what remains -- rather, he shall profit us.
Let us flay him, stretch his skin and tan it,
fashion for ourselves a handsome billfold
from the man who never found a useful trade.
He would not buy the wares our brothers sold,
nor would he sell, but wrote of ruined loves,
ironic ends, the sort of tale too often told.
He never cut the earth with plow or spade;
Perhaps he should be sown for workmen's gloves.

And if we soak his bones in vinegar,
yar, we could make them bend
enough to weave into a creel.
Sure, that would make a fitting end
for him who liked to condescend,
as though he brought us fire and the wheel
with every stinking line of verse he penned.
Bastard, thinking people gave a deuce
about his fear or love or faith or doubt.
Then let him now at least be of some use --
to carry back our mackerel and trout.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2010 Godot
Published on Wednesday, December 29, 2010.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "His Skin & Bones"

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  • Jonas Robinson On Monday, January 14, 2019, Jonas Robinson (867)By person wrote:

    Sometimes it seems so hard to break free from insanity. But with the help of us poets having education and talent, there might be hope. Thank you. :)

  • Godot On Wednesday, January 16, 2019, Godot (22)By person wrote:

    thanks for the kind words! much appreciated.

  • TropicalSnowstorm On Friday, November 18, 2011, TropicalSnowstorm (1703)By person wrote:

    "fashion for ourselves a handsome billfold from the man who never found a useful trade" - Great piece! Have always been a fan of yours. Ciao, T/S Scholar

  • Aleas On Wednesday, January 12, 2011, Aleas (171)By person wrote:

    Again, one of your contemporaries once write "a word's a word and nothing more" -yet, unsurprisingly he took himself just a tad too serious for my judgment. Was this write specifically about Silent... =P

  • DarkDruidess On Wednesday, December 29, 2010, DarkDruidess (326)By person wrote:

    How strange I went to sleep last night thinking of "Death of a Salesman" and now I find the poetic version...Death of the Poet...unless I got this wrong? Still loved it...

  • A former member wrote: wow....another amazing write...reminds me of H H Holmes, who murdered people, cleaned their skeletons, and sold them to places for profit =/...amazing imagery, just amazing!

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