being dead

the being dead is hardest of them all.
The neat line ends, the rest is
skipping in the shallows
feeling a little snow
upon the wind
along some mundane avenue
all netted tight
against a possible contrivance
of the world to disrupt
their dim lights
they see the monster's gleaming face
it keeps them up-to-date
and well amused
it sifts away the bad,
the hard-to-face,
the real, the truth, the dead, the dead, the dead……….

written early 1981

© John Close