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,
poofs!
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.