Corpses Without Names

Corpses Without Names
© Surazeus
2023 01 21

The bloated corpse of god on trash-strewn beach 
rises up on tattered wings of desire 
and gives me ancient map on human skin 
which shows me signless road to Asphodel 
where Persephone weeps over my skull 
till Plouton gives everyone coins of gold. 

Flopping around as I attempt to walk, 
I stagger among heaps of rotting trash 
from civilization on pristine beach, 
and reconstruct office building with phones 
where alligators and giraffes process 
credit card payments on fractured screens. 

Riding the city bus past factories 
and cathedrals filled with zombies in suits, 
I photograph every person I see 
and paste their photos on Cliffs of Moher 
to understand what each soul cares about 
as their bodies merge together in dirt. 

Knocking on doors of homes on Christmas Eve, 
I walk street maze in green Seattle mist 
and sing carols to corpses without names 
who drop coins of Plouton into my cup 
so I can buy the Starship Enterprise 
and fly to Jupiter where my wife lives. 

Just as I fall to my knees on glass plain 
before Yggdrasil writhing in moonlight, 
Aberewa with long serpentine hair 
takes my hand and leads me in mirror maze 
to Asamando deep inside the Earth 
where I blossom from the cracked apple seed. 

No matter where I roam on trash-strewn world 
I want to return home to Asphodel 
where foxes play in dew-wet meadow grass 
till steel bulldozers uproot Irminsul 
so I run from Marathon all night long 
to weep before lost grave of Earendil. 

Rapunzel plays harp on the trash-strewn beach 
while Aberewa chants among dead trees 
till Persephone takes my photograph 
because Plouton wants to publish my book 
but no one knows the way to Asphodel 
where I lie among corpses without names. 

We wonder why our bodies are alive 
so we invent religions to explain 
divine nature of our soul consciousness 
which is nothing more than function of light 
beaming atoms in waves of molecules 
while I pick up trash from the lonely beach.