no, there is no hallowed
ground, and no– we owe
tradition no reverence.
no, the dead are not live
and the live are not dead,
and no, this is no uncommon
truth. no, the graveyard
picnickers are breaking no
rules, and no, nor should
they be. why embalm bodies?
why build tombs? no, no,
hold no breath for the dead for
the dying are dying and the living
are jealous, and child, we haven’t
had a major miracle in years.
get back to your dinner, boy,
gobble up your ashes and lichen
and wipe off those tears. No
iron fences here, no buried-alive
bells. no, don’t watch the crows
gobble their carrion. no, they’re no
more envious than you or I. the truth
of funerals and feasts is we’re
all jealous of what’s been placed in front
of us. child, we haven’t had
a major miracle in years. stop
that praying. give up your death-wish.