Our common death knell
will gift all of its peals
to our last take of breath
when our slumping toil
over affairs and matters
played over three score
years and ten or less
is then too much to endure
whilst that loud exhalation
is a rush of dead air
of no known words
Do not let those priests
lecture my kids after this
Related Poems by Mike Bell
Published by Mike Bell Poetry
Mike Bell's expanding collection of poems is his ongoing response to actual moments – conjured memories – and a fearful future.
His ambition is to publish 10,000 poems, and then take a nap.
His writing continues to be reproduced in various formats and journals – he also throws himself out there in occasional readings – open mics and poetry sessions – when his body is willing.
Mike Bell is found working for money as a freelance set designer.
View all posts by Mike Bell Poetry
