I Talk to the Bones
[This is a notebook filled with handwritten poems, most of which seem to be about communing with the murdered dead through contemplation of their corpses. The verse, much of it quite accomplished, is lyrical and elegiac, profoundly insightful and even moving. The final poem is 34 lines in length, ending with the words below.] Your corpus was killed, your life ephemeral But your death was fine art, and art is eternal. Hail, immortal victim, hail In sacrifice, live ever on.