27/30 memories never go below

to feed on
bread or poetry,
eat the word
so fat
should rumi
leave you
dear son,
do not be
the fetid car
I saw today
cutting the funeral
motorcade
A life had died.
cemeteries so full
always pray
they were done
above
they were loved
above
carve your bang
deep

In everyone

you meet
gravediggers
pocket the earth
only
with empty casings
memories
never go below
yet,
honor the shadow.