(After Marvin Bell. Or not.)
Live as if you were already dead.
— Zen admonition
About The Dead Woman (Identity)
The dead woman is not the dead man.
She works in couplets, not single lines.
The dead woman is classically female:
even numbers, softness, curves, the dark.
The dead woman has her own agenda:
when I write curves, she prints ‘caves’. It’s not wrong.
The dead woman grows anxious.
She prints this as ‘noxious.’ That’s not wrong either.
The dead woman prints ‘either’ as ‘wither.’
Then she wonders whither she may now wander.
More About the Dead Woman (Identity)
The dead woman rises up out of her chair.
She tips the white petals out of her dress.
The dead woman will dress as she pleases now,
no matter how she was decorated, by others, for the funeral.
The dead woman spits a nasty taste out of her mouth.
She doesn’t watch, like a tidy person, to see where it landed.
Now, the dead woman runs away from her funeral.
She is not still. She is not biddable.
I couldn't resist doing another one! But I'll probably stop here.