Death doesn’t play chess,
but grows quietly
inside a bowel or brain,
and the half empty hotel parking lot
offers condolences
that only cost $200 a night,
while the complimentary breakfast
feels like it costs the soul
you stopped believing in
long enough ago to hope
you’re wrong.
Richard LeDue (he/him) lives in Norway House, Manitoba, Canada. He writes poems. His last collection, “Existential Drunk,” was released from Alien Buddha Press in May 2026.

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