Cemetery Nights!

Cemetery Nights

Sweet dreams, sweet memories, sweet taste of earth:

here’s how the dead pretend they’re still alive-

one drags up a chair, a lamp, unwraps

the newspaper from somebody’s garbage,

then sits holding the paper up to his face.

No matter if the lamp is busted and his eyes

have fallen out.  Or some of the others

group together in front of the TV, chuckling

and slapping what’s left of their knees.

No matter if the screen is dark.  Four more

sit at a table with glasses and plates,

lift forks to their mouths and chew.  No matter

if their plates are empty and they chew only air.

Two of the dead roll on the ground,

banging and rubbing their bodies together as if in love or frenzy.  No matter if their

 skin breaks off, that their genitals are just a memory.

 

The head cemetery rat calls in all the city rats,

who pay him what rats find valuable-

the wing of a pigeon or ear of a dog.

The rats perch on tombstones and the cheap statues of angels, and, oh they hold their bellies

and laugh, laugh until their guts half break;

while the stars give off the same cold light

that all these dead once planned their lives by,

and in someone’s yard a dog barks and barks

just to see if some animal as dumb as he is

will wake from sleep and perhaps bark back.

by Stephen Dobyns

BOO!!!  HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!