An Atheist Rite

Spend my cold corpse.   Carve me no epitaph
But cuts of life.      Pack lungs and living heart
To breath new spirit    in a flatlined chest.

As dear a coin is blood.      Deposit it
On frozen terms,            faith, for a fatal day
When someone else deserves    my second chance.

Grace not the grisly off-cuts    with a grave.
No human hides inside          heaped-compost bones.
Release that rigor'd hand.     My deeds remain.

One thought on “An Atheist Rite

  1. The Rose of The Appalachian Hills says:

    Love the typewriter aesthetic. Also love this poem. It’s very bleak but it does end on a positive note which is nice. Also it reminds me of that movie with Carey Mulligan. Do you know the one I am talking about?

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