Wasted And Bloated

-Wasted And Bloated-
by Keaton Foster


Dead
Decomposing
Disease riddled
Excrement
Nothing
Overtly exciting
Just more of the same
Corpses stacked
Wasted and bloated
From floor to ceiling
I’m a gravedigger’s son
But I have no interest
In all that he does
His macabre kingdom
To me holds no future
There is nothing here
In this overindulged vacancy
To which I aspire
There are some things
That people
Should not hope
To be the very best at
This is one such thing
I don’t want any of this
He’s away
My father
The gravedigger
Predisposed
Leaving me in charge
What a fool
I’ll run this business
Right into the ground
Never again
Will another say to him
Here’s a few hundred bucks
Dispose of this
No questions asked
He, my father says that he
Could name every corpse
Buried behind these gates
And that he could tell you
Where any one of them are
And when he planted them
He says the dead speak
And that only those
In tune can hear
What it is they say
To that I reply
Horseshit
I don’t hear a damn thing
All that is here
Is an abundance of nothing
All that is hear
Is marked land
That stretches on
From one ornate fence
To the next
I’m the gravedigger’s son
But I have no interest
In what he has done
Wasted and bloated
Stack bodies are everywhere
The holes are marked
Life it began
Thus it will end
Those so dead
Are waiting to be laid to rest
Forever in a place to be kept
It’s not personal
No living soul
Should have a grievance
With anyone in a state
Of decomposition
This is not about them
Those stacked like cords of wood
This is a about me
The point that I must make
Will let him know
Understand
The level to which
I am willing to confess
That I desire nothing of this
He can keep his macabre kingdom
It’s just not what I wish
So here I am
With my refusal to dig
Instead I’ll wait until
My father returns
From what he was so sure
Was more important
Than staying here
At first he will be shocked
He will tell me I’m no son of his
He’ll assure me that I screwed up
And that I don’t have
What it takes to run such a business
I’ll be happy to assure him
By both words and actions
That he without question is right
Wasted and bloated
Those yet to be buried
Are putting of
One hell of a smell
I hope he comes back soon…



Wasted And Bloated
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.