When churches fall completely out of use
What we shall turn them into
-Philip Larkin, “Church Going”, 1954
I woke up this morning thinking
T.S. Eliot had no clue
but (truth be told)
he must have known a thing or two.
Larkin, he must have done so too.
“As we turned the corner
we were confronted
by more rows of coffins”
Everyone dies alone
new rules regarding the handling of the dead
April Fool, like every year
The Waste Land comes to mind
(I can connect
Nothing with nothing.
The broken fingernails of dirty hands.)
had there been a month
as cruel as this, just about to start?
“For those who die at home,
the bureaucratic process is lengthier
as deaths need to be certified by two doctors.”
Cities like unused film sets
videographed by drones
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
each in his prison
Thinking of the key
I read everything there is
I keep count of every dead,
every body who’s recovered,
every voice who’s lived to tell the tale.
I step inside, quoth the poet-
letting the door thud shut.