Posted on

How I Deal with Death (a poem)

I fear it.

I embrace it.


I let it keep me up at night.

I poke at it with a stick.


I get skeeved when I have to

touch it and pull out an

old pair of pajamas to

wrap up my rat

and bury



I abhor it.

I adore it. I really

don’t adore it I just

liked the way it



I hang doll

heads from my

ceiling fan a

shrunken skull from

my rearview



I want it to go away.

I make it come

for bugs.


I let it sit there on

the porch I

shoo it with

a swatter.


I try to tell myself it is

the ultimate spiritual

experience and there’s no

way to get out of it yet I




freak out to think

I may one day

not be me. I



cute little


on tricycles.


Ryn Gargulinski, 05.01.13

Posted on

JOE: a bumble bee poem

beware of bees sign

I felt bad – for a moment – to

watch the bee twitch to

see his two front legs

flail crazed on his

back jacked

from the cup

I had smushed

through his middle I


felt bad – for an instant – as

I crushed his bee head

with a rock – that


buddha stuff

says not to

kill things & I

shall very well go

to hell but it was

such a human

reaction when his

fuzzy bee bottom

grazed my

lip as I took a

sip of coffee & then


glanced in the

cup to see

the bee

so gleeful

& merry

as he

tainted the

last drop

of joe.


ryn gargulinski.02.17.13