after you die

waits, tom

like a tin can feeding

like a skinned hand bleeding

like a tramp choir crying

like a camp fire dying

like a big dog breeding

like a pig hog feeding

like a top hat tipping

like a dropped rat skipping

like a tin horn glowing

like a gin storm blowing

like a neck tie flapping

like a rich guy clapping

like a big fool crawling

like a rig tool falling

like a back door squeaking

like a crack whore tweaking

what is it like?

what is it like after we die?

like a string that's broken

like a thing that's smoking

like a blue flame burning

like a new brain learning

like more cold coffee

like a poor old softie

like a declining graveyard

like a shining brave star

like a child that's fainting

like a wild ass painting

what is it like?

what is it like after we die?