Red Ghost Text

When Joy Dies

by Joel Chace

The brain

falls untracked through space,

a cold star.

Each nerve

vibrates and vanishes

beyond all dog ears.

Every muscle

tightens, tightens,


Blood –

washed clean away

by seven seconds’ rain.

Each flesh and organ cell

a tiny vortex,

sucked down its own drain.

Every bone

instantly chalk dust,

whisked off by maverick wind.

The soul – that hovered

as long as it could –

evaporates like dew-slick.

What remains

is nothing,

that red ghost.

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