understanding/understating the irony

Lauren Lubas



of a

moral amorality

of genocide


ambition of

another kind.


A nother




Commonality of familiarity

in some joke of a plethora

of numbskullesque rebuttal.


Take with me what

you cannot see.

I take it to the grave…

to the soul…

to this wooden box that I will soon call home

for eternity

until the owner

of these grounds

this Catholic garden

of the dead

decides to dig me up

and sell my plot to

another dead man.


My gravestone will not

reach the age of 100.

I will not reach an eternal state.

I cannot sell this poem for money.

I am too poor to try.

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790