Sleep, Good Afternoon Death, and Legacy

Good Afternoon Death

I cannot force myself to fear

a pleasant, sunny day,

and yet that’s when

most people kill people.

Road rage, gang fights, bank robbery

Car wrecks, drug deals, spousal slayings

Suicides and matricides and random death.



I cannot force myself to enjoy

a dank and gloomy night

and yet I’m safer with the monsters.


Young men hook up with sleep

in squandered sprees.

Old men would seduce slumber

but lie awake yearning.

This joy of not thinking,

this coveted oblivion,

this fickle comfort,

this open-legged tease

is their daily tormenter


The shuffling feet of those ahead

tramp a dust-clouded pathway

in which I just see and touch

the backs of those still living

and hear the wind-blown murmurs

of those gone further beyond.

The ever-fainter bobbing heads

have concocted my making

and conditioned my soul.

No matter how I turn

or twist away from them

their march is ever before me.

For will it or not

I am always of them,

Swaddled by ancestors

who mostly know me not,

staring ahead as they pace on,

never looking back.

 by Ed Ahern |  featuring photography by Jonathan Chape + artwork by Damianovskaia



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Ed Ahern

Bio: Ed Ahern resumed writing after forty odd years in foreign intelligence and international sales. He's had over a hundred thirty poems and stories published so far, and two books, his collected fairy and folk tales and a mystery/horror novella. His collected fantasy and horror stories is scheduled for publication toward the end of 2016. Facebook Edward Ahern Twitter:@bottomstripper