by Bud Sturguess
Hell on my breath, I told you don't bother dreaming Be a pallbearer, not a dreamer I said The world needs pallbearers There's a No Trespassing sign at the base of the Mount of Olives The government's quite tired of you slinking around like a ghoul Gazing up into heaven They summoned me to come and take you home In that awful desert, pacing about, wondering what to do about you and your malady, I collapsed A combination of the heat and your ridiculous dream Then I saw, with my own eyes An angel, majestic and terrifying The kind conjured by the criminally insane The earth quaked and every pallbearer on duty abandoned their posts lest the earth open and they be swallowed by the dark Hell on my breath, I told you don't bother dreaming In dust and ashes I repent.
Bud Sturguess was born in the small cotton-and-oil town of Seminole, Texas. He now lives in his “adopted hometown,” Amarillo. Sturguess has self-published several books, his latest being the novel Sick Things. He lives on disability benefits and collects neckties. Sturguess’s work appears in New Pop Lit, Duck Duck Mongoose, as well as the upcoming print anthologies Mid/South from Belle Point Press and The Daily Drunk’s From Parts Unknown.