The Odyssey Is Over, Go Away! Poem by Violetta Simatupang

the long vestibules know not what the word ‘keep’ means
white figures toing and froing
a bulky man, a daughter pushing a bier, a mother in four shrouds

a golden carriage screeched as it moved swiftly
before the passengers turned into pumpkins
there was a dented box of prayers
abandoned in a drawer next to the seat
almost scorched

flying daggers were arguing
which life was to be dumped—shredding
not only blood
but also ribs, scapulae. And countenances

in room five before the forewords
the quill pad of a chanter witnessed
lights were buried and lost their meanings.

shrouds
wailed to the thin air.