Sometimes I write really bad poems and then stash them away in the dusty corner of my computer files and then find them again and read them as if I'd never written them. I don't remember writing this poem last February, but it makes me laugh.

You died in a way
no one else ever died:
your bones began
to snap, one
at a time,
one every second.

This process took
3 minutes and 36 seconds
because you were a perfectly average
human being.