Isles of the Dead
If you dig down far enough
you find the ones whose lives collapsed
In the banquet hall, Denise
stooped to retrieve a spoon, and the whole
service gave way. Rita was caught
drinking too deeply of somebody elses
dregs, so the life drained out of her.
And heres Donna, still gnawing
on an ex-boyfriends ankle.
On this island well, actually,
a warming table they crouch among
the breaded cutlets,
and in the passageway,
a slightest breeze from outside stirs
up dust, a poof
of mummied uniforms
under crumbled ceilings as lasting
as pastry shells.
They lift the airy stone-
ware of their lives and come
walking after me.