THOSE WHO NOW IN DUST LIE

All those dead poets, long-gone

and rotten, turned to dust and ash -

how foolish they were

facing eternity with mere words,

love this and love that, all those

lies about death fair and longed-for and

sleep-like; how blind and foolish

and misguided they were,

those long obliterated, whose

thoughts are lies on paper,

whose flesh is gone and whose

gravestones mark the passing of moths.

10.01.2018