Thoughts of a Dead One Waiting

K.V. Twain
| poetry


Tomorrow someone will come for me.

Or maybe not tomorrow.

Later. Who knows when?

I don’t mind waiting.

It beats doing something.

Doing has always been my undoing.

Not everyone has my peculiar sense of humor.

That too has been an impediment in my life.

Number nine out of five hundred and sixty-one.

It took me a while to count.

But I like to count.

It beats doing something.

I wouldn’t want to live again.

I didn’t even live this time.

I only blew smoke in life’s bloated face.

For once, the bastard got its just deserts.

I bet it’ll never approach again.

K.V. Twain, born in 1981, is an English-language Romanian writer educated in the US, UK, and Japan. She is the author of the novella My Life with Salvador Dalí, by Babou the Ocelot and the poetry volume Not Playing God. Her first novel is in progress.

To the Tune of “Sand Washing the Stream”
Ostrich Takes the Stage