To Keep the Dead from Dying
By Badger Compain
a greying octopus sleeps
curled in a square jar
porous cork assists
an evaporation of isopropyl alcohol
(this vanity is fermented
meyer lemons, pickles, cabbage is fine)
more vain than anyone
my age
clipped once from the insatiable
immortality glows
beneath
s o f t e n e d skin
I am youthful therefore can never die
my body collects death
in turn
in jars
in lungs
twisting eyes whipping round
tongue wagging onward
I fill my shelves with
it
dying meaning decor, display
look all I have
survived
in a world of endings
ending
even now, when you would be
22
the snow is falling light
2 years back
I found a small coyote on the farm
with hands ungloved and urgent
stole it home to red tupperware
toothbrush treatment in the communal kitchen
after a year underground
stole it in an empty Starbucks cup
found on the floor of Avery’s car
merciful, meaning
without ceremony
already the snow has stopped
and I am
young enough to suppose
I could stop death from leaving
formaldehyde, bleach
glistening bones
snake / rabbit / mink
deer / coyote / raccoon
fish / trout // tinned
preserve to prevent or save from undesirable eventuality
to spare
to keep alive
to keep as one was before
to keep from the earth who am I
to tell mycelial gods
they shall not have supper
to keep
my love from the soil
with diaphonized hands
a greying octopus / botulis honey
children in bulletproof backpacks
who were never children
you who were never twenty
snow that never falls
lid that never opens
death that only swallows
gulping / from beyond the shoreline
the glorious decomposed /
breaking ground
unfurling
new bodies.
