Body Bag

by Elvira

left                               in the parking lot
what secrets
do you hold?

No smells                                                        of rotting flesh
just of                                                              singletons
looking                                    for a home

― 2 ―

inside,                                                              remnants of
a life:                                                               Lab coat
sullied                          shoes, once white
plates
proclaiming                 MD
All                                crammed                    in a Harry Nichols
bag

― 2 ―

Once new,                                           the bag
soiled                           with the debris of
a stolen Life

― 2 ―

the Body                      gone,                           once
headed                        to New York;
now:                            stilled.

— 2 –

The Opera                   ends —
there is                        no
Third Act

July 16, 2013

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