mustard bones and other ways to pay the ferryman

i carry your bones in my pocket
the smooth round ends
sharpened
into knife points

i want to spray paint them gold
but i only have mustard yellow

the ferryman only has 
one good eye anyway
i think about wearing
something slutty
then i wear nothing

mustard bones
aren't gold coins

he holds the boat still
i pretend i am clumsy
and trip
his one good eye does
not move from my left tit
i wonder what's 
wrong with the my right one

i hand him my bag of bones
he throws them to the side
points his bony finger
past the fog

i nod
his breath smells
like old attic
but i stay close to him
wishing i had worn clothes
wishing i had gold
instead of the condiment
colored bones of my enemy

at the shore of the dead
i lay in the cool black sand
bury one bone i saved
the ghosts gossip 
around me and suck
the warmth from my skin

while waiting for my death flower
to grow
i watch  ferryman's eye twitch
as he removes my payment
from the bag
he bites the bone
as if it is a coin

i pluck the flower
run to the boat
shove my left tit 
in his face
and ask him
if he sees a spider bite
the bone falls from
his mouth

then i kiss that empty
attic tasting space
where a mouth 
should be
i throw the bag of mustard
bones to the zombie piranhas
beneath the boat

now that the ferryman gives me free rides
i have a whole garden of death flowers
that i tend to
while singing him led zeppelin songs
i tell him he is famous
because he is so rich and scary
he laughs and it sounds like a roomful 
of people choking

i eat a flower
while he rows me back
to the living
he keeps his good eye
on my left tit
so i am not sure
where we are going