First published in Picaroon Poetry, issue 5
Nominated for the Sundress Publications Best of the Net Award 2017

Science says that when you die,
the last sense to go is your hearing.

Imagine that.

Collapsing to the ground, helpless,
and after the death rattle,

you hear a bystander calling out,

Oh, fucking hell.

He’s dead.
He’s dead.
He’s dead.

Imagine that.

It’s enough to keep you awake at night.

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