Holly Woodward


May my hearse swerve off-course,
drawn by a leopard
that’s chasing wild boars.
Leave them unfettered.

Let lawyers walk first,
You, dear, can trail last—
the best shall be worst
at getting there fast.

Parade death’s workmates,
taxmen calculating rates.
Show off weapons of war—
death is what they’re for.

Hire Hades with Hecate in reins,
and penitents in sackcloth
taking all kinds of pains.
Release a Luna moth.

Have my hearse drawn by flies
at a slow sunrise.
Dance on the hearse hood.
Do not rush!

No, it’s no good,
I’ll have to be pushed.




Holly Woodward is an artist and writer whose works have won over a hundred honors. She spent a year as a doctoral fellow at Moscow University; she also studied for two semesters at Saint Petersburg U. She served as writer in residence at Saint Albans, Washington National Cathedral. Holly was a fiction fellow at CUNY’s Writers Institute for the last four years.