Cemetery Walk

passing through stillness where death has been laid where the crows go to schmooze where the wind blows the grass & tickles the Autumn leaves across the plain--- every american should have to walk through the cemetery as every american should be left in the middle of a foreign country where they don’t speak the language without a phone, a credit card, cash or proper identification, so that they must get on with only the compassion of other humans to help them through & a walk through the cemetery makes it so obvious that your favorite color doesn’t matter your choice of occupation doesn’t matter your sweater fabric doesn’t matter your fiancé’s choice in shower gel doesn’t matter your squabbles with the cable company don’t matter & it repeats & repeats & repeats into oblivion, all these needless abstractions & wastes of time in which we indulge when all that really means anything is the attempt at alleviating the misery & suffering of others around us, before we all end up quiet, still, deteriorated, decomposed, disintegrated & disappeared away.