Sages make you hear a sinister cry
The cadavers have been aligned
Along the graveyard wall
Negligence trues the agreement
License keeps score
No place in conformity with traditions
Sunshine as formerly
Won’t inundate a face


That’s why you weep that’s only why
Poor chum


Torpor creeps furtive
Into limbs frozen with age
One executes on the spot
Funeral rites by the sole gleam
Of a fragile candle named Obsecula
Sixth time now the actors
Furrow the earth in all directions
On the threshold of a sordid domicile
A woman’s face faded with years
Calls you


That’s why you laugh that’s only why
Poor chum


Paul Novis