Post Mortem

as much to be as it is 
to be taken
and taken	seriously

brought light into the cave
shared it with your enemies
because, really, there was nothing worse you could do to them

	which, looking at the rusted edge 
	of a coin, will tell

they made derangement and devil-worship of the noises that frightened them and there was much bloodletting and 

somehow that was comforting 
something like history
vented on the ear drums
or maybe nothing at all 
like a leaf, the way it shows 
two colors as it falls, turning 
				end 
				to 
				end
your clothes, you see
have already been chosen for you
a uniform you have to wear
at work
	only it isn't work you go to
	it's life
			like the night you couldn't sleep 
so you lay awake
assuming all the different poses
that a corpse might
			hands clasped
			around the neck
			as if dead 
from choking 

	or your arms
	hanging limp
	at your sides
			you imagined the white chalked lines
	you 
	the victim
			and when you stood
			your shadow
			dead
				at your feet
retreat is nailed 
firmly 
at the door

the ramifications 
of this injure 
themselves

and do not 
know it