Sweet dreams, sweet memories, sweet taste of earth:
here's how the dead pretend they're still alive-
one drags up a chair, a lamp, unwraps
the newspaper from somebody's garbage, 
then sits holding the paper up to his face.
No matter if the lamp is busted and his eyes 
have fallen out. Or some of the others
group together in front of the TV, chuckling
and slapping what's left of their knees. 
No matter if the screen is dark. Four more
sit at a table with glasses and plates,
lift forks to their mouths and chew. No matter 
if their plates are empty and they chew only air.
Two of the dead roll on the ground,
banging and rubbing their bodies together 
as if in love or frenzy. No matter if their skin
breaks off, that their genitals are just a memory.