Bury the bodies where they lay

Bury the bodies where they lay
and lay down still
like a beast when you tire

She cries before we say
a word to each other,
and years have been silenced
in the perfect sentence
that expresses all we need to
without expressing anything,
that attempts to say what can’t be said
but is said nonetheless
like the last words
of a man

Bury the bodies where they lay
and lay down still
like a beast when you tire

We sit down
on a couch that my parents
conceived me on,
worn by them then me
and the bodies in between
that I don’t know
but still somehow do,
bodies that could talk, hope, rot,
bodies that did eventually
when others were with others
besides me

Bury the bodies where they lay
and lay down still
like a beast when you tire

The day is grizzly
but the inside is worse
while a refuse of cells
spews a mix of waste and life
– carbon dioxide and water –
unequally my way
and uses letters in ways
I’m not familiar
so I don’t know what to reply
but instead wait for something
like a corpse for different diaphragm
but the clouds eat the daylight
here

Bury the bodies where they lay
and lay down still
like a beast when you tire

Death reeks,
yet life stinks more
when she shits and
uses my toilet paper
and I touch her later,
telling her she smells less
like guzzled cigarettes and booze
and I notice I’ve run out of toilet paper
where will I be released
how will I be clean again

Bury the bodies where they lay
and lay down still
like a beast when you tire

She leaves with herself
and I’m here with myself still
and still
with the benefit of being
among the living
but not feeling very much
alive, which is fine with me
because I think I’ll sleep for a
few days
or years

Bury the bodies where they lay
and lay down still
like a beast when you tire