Visiting the Dead


All who enter here
Bow your heads
And empty your pockets,
Carry nothing when
You visit the dead.
Save your respects
For the living,
If you make it
Out alive.
This coffin’s
Built for two—
Will you ride down
With me, trading
Your life to keep
My memory alive?
Guilt or grief,
It’s all the same,
If you’re standing
On the edge
Watching me fall.
I can’t catch
The flower you
Toss my way.
What good are flowers?
Throw a ladder,
At least a rope.
I see how this
Is going.
Bury me then,
In dirt and tears.
Plant flowers
In the mud
You’ve made
Of my dying.
Damn flowers.