Les Rêves des Notre Ours #2 | Page 5

Dead People

Consider the facts.

The dead do not brush their teeth

or use deodorant.

They do not make fools of themselves

or nurse hangovers Sunday morning.

No one ever tells them they’re late

or sorry they didn’t get promoted.

And for the rest of their lives

they get to sleep in.

Granted, their appearance can be unsettling;

but their transparency is refreshing.

When you shake hands with a dead man,

you can take it to the bank.

Sometimes they do come out,

but only for a little while.

They toast the living and dance

on a grave or two. Then they call it a night.

They would stay longer,

but their picnics never turn out well.

When the party’s over,

they leave big holes in the ground.

I always thought

if there was a tug of war

between the dead and the living

the dead would win.

After all—there’s more of them.

But I was wrong.

We have all the weight on our side.

by D. G. Geis - D.G. Geis lives in Houston, Texas. Most recently his poetry has appeared in Fjords, SoftBlow, Poetry Scotland (Open Mouse), Memoryhouse, Sugar House, and Permafrost. He is married to a redhead and his favorite activity (so far) is breathing.