So you refuse to believe

So you refuse to believe

In death

Denying mortality

Every time you walk into a room

Full of rotting corpses

The bones of you

Chilled

Distilled

Into a paper cup

Checked for any lasting signs of life

Nobody believes it

When they die

The stink of reductionism

Follows in the wake

Of ageing.

Old men are anathema

To each other

It is no wonder

They are lonely

Ruemy eyed

Hollowed out dried

Up old carcasses.

The world hates to be reminded

Of its impermanence.

Perishability

Is an earthly requirement

Bellies distend

With every limp exercise

The flesh hangs flaccid

Loose and flabby

We are candles

Melted down.

Tallow

In need of a wick.