someone painted over a dead fly on the terrace.
they would not even brush it away
they just brushed over it.
i wonder whether its obituary was lengthy
with a list of the women in its life
a mention of its parents
and its sons and daughters.
or whether it simply mentioned the name, age, and place of death.
a lonely death.
later, sitting outside in the garden in the evening
a swarm of mosquitoes circled my leg
i would bring my hand down on my thigh
and there would be dead mosquitoes.
i brushed them off, and i did not think of their obituaries.
short obituaries are sad poems
name
age
and the word ‘died’.
She bought me a packet of mint cigarettes
She smoked stylishly
And when I told her this observation
She tried smoking even more stylishly
After a while I spied on her
And saw her blow the smoke out
Like the smoke was escaping her mouth on its own will.
Unstylish.\