Gravestones stand still
like miniature skyscrapers on the hill.
Epithets graffiti
the granite,
while inside the moldy holes,
spirits fly,
worms tunnel,
and bones rest.
This advertisement of death is a lie.
Kristalyn
I really enjoyed this. Especially stanzas 1,2, and 4. This poem feels like fleeting moment in your life. There but gone.
I think this poem is wonderful. I only wish I could understand why it’s a “criminal” cemetery. Anyone?
This poem was written as an excercise assignment for my Writer’s Workshop class. The goal was to use the language of the city to describe something natural or rural and this what my mind spewed forth. There isn’t really a strong connection between criminal and cemetery other than the fact that the cememtery is like a religious fraud which I considered to be similar to a crime…and I love alliteration.