Trees outside the cemetery

gods and monsters

and dogs in front of

the graveyard gates

don't think about the future

less than dull ending

in a gray empty flat

mines under the surface

of wet carpet elegy

scratch their names

in the name of Poseidon

with spikes on the rocks

lone stretches of a hill road

moan in the night after

the broken car windshields

and tiny red streams

the intimate stranger

left the crowded dance hall

untimely without words

jumped on the carriage

surroundings fade away

during the funeral

on sunny Tuesday

but the storm of post-loneliness

is slinking closer

and decades end

in a mournful ceremony

almost as sad as the trees

outside the cemetery