I died and just
went to bed
lay down
a voice said
undress and be led
so I called to the bar my Shadow
got her a glass of red
Tyrant Mind joined us
olden, smug, well-fed
“Geta pinta beer fer the Body O’ Lead.
Him, in the corner there,
lookin’ half dead.”
Body O’ Lead, wizened
youth misplaced
misled
and on the walls hung
muddy portraits
of my weary head
Last drinks
something somewhere said
because you’re all as good as
Lay down your arms
shouted the somber clearing
stood Tyrant Mind, Body O’ Lead
Loyal Shadow and her glass of red
all beside my bed
my weary
those voices
lay down
cracking and
dust of course and
then suddenly
everyone just left
I followed
and there was nothing
nothing but
a watermark on the table
from Loyal Shadow’s glass of red