I Think The Dead Are Singing Poem by Jack Galmitz

I think the dead are singing
or so I gather from their mouths.
I do not like the boat I'm in-
it has no oars
and the big black water has no fish
or prawns so am I wrong?

The dead look like angels painted
touching and leaning and grouped
toward some understood truth
that Anonymous knew.
I don't like the car I'm in
it has no horn and the brakes don't work
so what's the use of truth?

The dead move like curtains
lifted by the wind. The windows are opened
and let the sun the snow right in.
The dead seem to have no feet no need
for shoes they drift.
I shuffle along in my orthopedic shoes
poor circulation forcing me to lean on polls
in the street. I think I will join them soon
they are so neat.