thread 24

by Charles Evans


and one must remain in

the depths. funeral potatoes prepared

and served, we fell beneath

the bottle. in the churchyard

where wandered the peacocks all


the stones were quarried. seasonal

omens were observed. shadow and

dank only hid in the

passage tombs we went through,

gentle cups and stones in


wide circles around the decaying

dead, minds and eyes slowly

slipping from the darkened bodies,

in repose in the dust.

dank and shadow move to


one side to push your

bones nearer mine. in the

churchyard above our soupy organs

the peacocks wander, reading omens

in stone and sky, predicting