Dee Rimbaud
Closing The Door
Opening the coffin lid, Candy
Your marbled clotted face
Appalled me
And your black cratered eyes
Stared so,
Stilling the blood
For a moment
There.
Aye, but we buried you, Candy
In Paris
In the cemetery
Where the hippies sat
Smashed out
And downcast
By the lizard king’s
Gravestone.
And they played guitars, Candy
Sweet rhythmic pulses
We could have
Danced away the night to,
But you were dead, Candy
And I had to dance
Alone.
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