'Last Rites' by J. Twm

death,

don’t even try.

don’t ever double guess me,

because you’re a

cunt

and everyone knows it

too.

with your sick formaldehyde pallor,

psalms and general dank

squalor,

fuck

you

death

with your atrophy.

and your dull grey

parlours,

you can’t destroy energy,

death. even with your best

bone

china.

when you

come to darken my door,

know that

i blazed

as bright

as I could.

know that i will

have lived.

i will have loved, this life.

All Rights. J Twm.

Although he has been writing for 25 years, J Twm didn't start sending work out until he turned 40 and decided to get his act together. In the last few years his poetry has appeared in Stand, Poetry Wales, New Welsh Review, Planet, Orbis, Dreamcatcher, Fly on the Wall Press, Marble, and Poetry Salzburg Review amongst some online ones.