mors mementi (a dream of the inevitable)

i looked out my window
on a night that was moonlit
but still cloudy so sometimes
this bold reflective lamp
would be smothered, exterminated
it no longer brightening the land

i felt a presence
while Mahler was weaving
a windy web of fog
that whispers ‘Frere Jacques’
in the otherwise calm background
so i scanned the room

and i saw my german shepherd
now smaller than me
jump up to say hello
gnawing at my wrist
though his face was not gold
but white like porcelain

then my great uncle
came knocking at my door
with a red cyst on his eye
he screamed “you asshole”
and exploded before me
spraying blood on the hardwood floor

i stared at the freshly painted room
its glow like the image of the sun
after you gazed for too long
but I shook the exposure from my head
and with eyes still fixed began to walk
past mirrors and night lights

then i noticed a skeleton
at the wooden kitchen table
doing the morning crosswords
this must be my granddad
but he is still alive and fat
and drinking national bohemian from a can

with curiosity i looked over
his visible collarbone
and i examined the puzzle
all he needed to finish
was a 9-letter word for rites
and it began with an ‘o’

2000ish

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