#1895 - tasty dead things

 

1835

6.7

7.i.25

tasty dead things

 

death hangs where I have sprayed it

death is in my pantry, fridge

death is everywhere I go

 

I eat death

and I shit it out

we spread it on the crops again

 

death is the world’s way

and out beyond there’s nothing but

though nothing ever lived

 

we smell it, waking, as in the web

I empty the morning traps

 

my enemy under the boot until

imperial the drapery

make marble

 

grief is a moment in the dark goes on

 

it is simply a matter of fact

 

the obvious unmentioned

better make a will

 

set out the sombre tones

we’re tombed up as far

 

it’s coming for me

and it’s coming for you

for every world

for every star

 

even for the brightest gods

and they know who they are