Look me in the Eye

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.