Death of the Worm

Farasha Euker

Now it is autumn and the falling fruit / and the long journey towards oblivion. / The apples falling like great drops of dew / to bruise themselves an exit from themselves. / And it is time to go, to bid farewell / to one’s own self, and find an exit / from the fallen self. / Have you built your ship of death, O have you? / build your ship of death, for you will need it.

D. H. Lawrence, “Ship of Death”
Crack, boom, the thunder
echoes out loudly,
and the sky reverberates
as it is filled with alternating
bursts of light.
The clouds open up and
release a torrential
downpour of rain.
The rivers overflow,
water tables rise,
and he is caught, caught
in the flood, sad thing.
Fight, fight with the
fire of your being, proud
creature, but no,
no, it is too late,
he has died
and gone back
to the earth from
whence he sprung,
but unlike us,
he lived and died
full of dignity
and fire in the guts.
Goodbye sad creature.
The death of the worm.