Ritual of Mourning

it’s time to lay out cutlery
a dish of rock salt
a bowl of sleep

at each place setting for those
who are no longer with us
but on their phones

break bread with silence
the nothing you feel is
the nothing you deserve

a zest of lemon on
a faceless slab of cod
will never be the opiate of the masses

put away the candles
borrow light from a streetlamp
or a jar of moonshine

straighten your spine
it’s time to begin dreaming
your next life