Look me in the Eye 100 x 80 cm acrylic on canvas |
THE DEAD
are stored
in family vaults
in Naples,
Italy, in New Orleans—set afloat on some holy
river in
South Asia—scattered over a bay in California—
scattered on
the floor of a forest in Germany, a gum
wrapper
shining through the ashes—but they’re
among us
too.
Twisting
the neck
of a pepper
mill—dead—giving correct change—deader—
that
figment in the mirror—deadest.
You ask a
few corpses to drop by
for an
evening of civilized decomposition.
Zombies
line up, board the boat, cross the river to be with you.
You’re
taste keeps evolving
giving you
hope that nothing will stop.
That you will
grow out of yourself
into other selves
perpetually
and onward without
end
eternity
waiting just for you:
which may
turn out to be one of your favorite
fantasies featuring
a vision of temple dancers
drifting
home after the night shift;
row after
row
of languid palms
on either side of the street
leaning
back in a damp breeze
and dreaming
of hurricanes—dead certain—to come.