Dead Poem Poem by Stanley Gemmell

Buried in a luxurious rain
I only came to see you again.
The grave is lonely
The nearby road, busy.
No one stops to talk to you anymore
Words are too valuable these days.
I will set my books down near your stone
And watch the moss grow.

I remember you used to frown
If I mentioned the way you
Smiled in your sleep.
"That's so private."

You would say chagrined.
Money in hand, you would
Greet the cashier: if it
Was a man he would stare.

I remember you used to spit
Like a man. The thing about
You that turned me on the most
Was the way you would say, "Me."


Anonymous submission.