Six poetic deaths

1. The poet dived for words only in the most dangerous waters. One morning, his body washed up on the beach of an undiscovered continent.

2. Her poems were a furnace, into which she threw his letters, his gifts and, finally, herself.

3. He incubated his words in a basement laboratory. One night, as he slept, they hatched. He was found dead the next morning, his throat cut.

4. The poet died an undignified death, choking on one of his own metaphors.

5. The poems resented the life they had been given. They hadn’t asked for it. Hunting down their maker was easy; she looked like them.

6. The poet kept words in hives, harvested their honey. He never wore protective clothing. We found him dead yesterday, swollen, beatific.

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