atavism riff

you have to wake up to it
people have died already

I couldn't place myself anywhere
I had no end to my circuitry
no earthing no plugins
I was nowhere

people died
I didn't know what it meant
I kissed them in their coffins
felt only intermittently through my hubris
my protection

something was stalking me
something from my past
was walking invisibly through the pages
the years

I still can't wake up
every day waking up gets further away
they're still dying like distant shocks
I don't know if they are pieces of me
going out with them
it was written like this early on
in the low roaring that has never stopped

what do you do with these dead people?
you look in their faces, you kiss them
they are mirrors in their purple/black/pink
denatured faces, their dressed bloom
undertaken for us to look upon

their holes wadded and perfumed
they don't reach out to us with anything
but some mute poetry of the unreachable
we thrust ourselves into their embrace
stupidly I still don't know them
these dead people
leading me to the next funeral rites

someone else hit a wall in himself
came to nothing, faded out
in his own ash and stink
hardly worth raising your head for
another drunk fairy no one believed in
went out somewhere
nothing is to be done
the doing was finished long ago

sleep now
no one is watching you turn blue
your wings folded in the dust
under the bed that no one shares
behind the wall
where they have papered over the door
those new people from next week
nothing left to be done
just
.
.