Makaelynn Marken
Feed my body to the sky at dawn.
Let howls echo from the canyon on.
Let the whitecaps sweep my body free.
Let the fault-line hurl this land to sea.
Leave coastlines, lost, never to be found.
Let fires strip once fertile ground.
Let vultures feast until the body is dry.
Leave stars to squirm across the sky.
Let the Golden Gate Bridge be eaten by rust.
Let the howls be heard until this body is dust.