Accidents After Death

Written for:  Sunday Muse #185

Oh my!  Just a smidgeon 
of poison.  He is gone,
but now I am left 
with five glasses.  
Might have to buy 
six new ones.  What 
a bother to clean
up this mess.  Well,
he always was accident

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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25 Responses to Accidents After Death

  1. Mike Bayles says:

    Sara, I enjoyed this poem, the humor and horror of it.


  2. Helen Dehner says:

    Reads like one of those wonderful British sitcoms ….. cheers.


  3. Sherry Marr says:

    Or break another one and just have four! Smiles.


  4. Sadje says:

    Haha! Humor in horror


  5. Jim says:

    O Dear, seems she forgot there generally is a mess to clean up after we kill our mean guy off. In Texas we call that a “shotgun divorce”.


  6. wyndolynne says:

    Cleaning up, moving on. 🙂


  7. so pithy from your murderous muse!


  8. Carrie V. H. says:

    Murder and poetry…love it Sara!!


  9. Beverly Crawford says:

    Oh those broken glasses. What a bother! Love it.


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