Bogey

I

Aint goin’ anymore

would like to claim the same

but rely upon you and others

to do same

heavy boots

sturdy spade

choosing the ground

was minded to travel

unorthodox / paradox

did sneak to the place –

entering by the flaky monolithic gate

Tool in hand,       above dark, calm at Southern Cemetery,                       the outskirts of town

though a bunch of vociferous crows

buzz amongst the stones.

II

Stabbing the bearer repeatedly turning over

the green

After lengthy work in the moments foray it was then I left and

floated away

from the scene

III

Time sensed = Time up

I place my part quietly in

Obscure

Time Future

is this absent body sure?

Though I hope you will come

return the soil and sing

songs for me….       Booze, eat dance and parteeeee

Some of you will have sex at the end of the  fête –

this TOIL, SWEAT, RELEASE,                                                              CelEbraTe

Going to a few as well,

we know how it

drops

in

the

pit      and maybe pot

(ill or well smelling with the other congregates)

will drift through the pub or communal hall

and who will dare to say:             “Put out the roll of Bogey –

don’t you have any respect for the dead right now?”

Poem: Bogey
Poem: Bogey
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