Ward Kelley
 

One Can Hardly Remember
 

"Where is the very lip of death?"
The ghosts pose this question
whenever they exhibit a certain
boredom with the conspiracies
of us fleshly folks.

To hear them sigh -- a listless
chanting -- is to listen to the awkward
rustle of leaves who all know summer is
ending . . . their turn to discolor upon them.

So too will the ghosts turn color,
once a wispy smoke, now a crystalline
snow . . . I can see I do not want
this answer they are so merrily intent
on delivering.

"The very lip of death?" they remind
us skinful gentlefolks, "It can readily
be found at the fingertips of those
who clutch the pen."  So I'm meant
to see how their lips kiss and kiss,
then dart away, so like earthly
kisses in that the occurrence

is real and sensual, yet an hour later
one wonders about the consequence
and can hardly remember the true
meaning of the lips.

The ghosts point out,
" . . . although certain
the taste was once there."
 
 

Wrong Planet

I sometimes think we're on the wrong
planet; this one doesn't appear to have
our best interests at heart.

There are obvious shortcomings:
food isn't plentiful, the weather
is seldom comfortable, and the very

fact we need houses says something
about the inhospitable climate in
which we find ourselves.  Then,

we're assaulted by every microbe
and disease in the vicinity, our bones
break, our noses run, our skin peels,

indeed our bodies all eventually
disintegrate in this place; I think
we may be on the wrong planet . . .

and then there's this thing called death.
 
 

In Transit
 

The breasts of the ghosts,
whether male or female,
(and it becomes increasingly
difficult to define)
always appear in transit . . .

at times shapely, at times
dispersing, but the women
seem to be less shy about
forming their breasts into
recognizable forms . . .

they remind me of children
who cutely seek ways to show
off their talents, and must
always be bubbly or perky . . .

perhaps this is the point about
the breasts, how the ghosts
are always returning, returning,

to a childish pleasure found in
their bodiless circumstances.
 

Ward708@aol.com 1