cemetery walk

passing through stillness

where death has been laid

where the crows go to schmooze

where the wind blows the grass &

tickles the Autumn leaves across

the plain---

every american should have to walk

through the cemetery as

every american should be left in the

middle of a foreign country

where they don’t speak the language

without a phone, a credit card, cash or

proper identification,

so that they must get on

with only the compassion of other humans

to help them through &

a walk through the cemetery

makes it so obvious that

your favorite color doesn’t matter

your choice of occupation doesn’t matter

your sweater fabric doesn’t matter

your fiancé’s choice in shower gel doesn’t

matter

your squabbles with the cable company

don’t matter &

it repeats &

repeats &

repeats into oblivion,

all these needless abstractions &

wastes of time in which we indulge

when all that really means anything is

the attempt at alleviating the misery &

suffering of others around us,

before we all end up quiet,

still, deteriorated, decomposed,

disintegrated &

disappeared

away.