remember that she is dead

by

David McLean

remember that she is dead now
and does not remember you
where she lies, ashes and mud.
she assembles us as parts and

members, her heritage, fragments of
corpses pasted together we are. love's
collage, everybody lies in the coffin
of their espoused eyes, fat as a cancer

and all society's dull despite is but
the depth of all this nothingness and we
are disgusting and disgusted
down to the diaphragm of our

fragmented oblivion, we are all Evil
Eds, clipping our dead
bitches together in lives slimy as a
splatter film, the axes and knives

of memory my shattered axes remember her
she is dead. and her dismembering, dismal
Miss, reflected my mirror yet
remember that she is dead now, she grows,

and there is nothing under the ground
but death and her dead-
ness yet. remember that she is dead
and remember to forget.

DAVID McLEAN shares...

DAVID McLEAN was born in Wales though he's lived in Sweden since 1987.  As of September 2007, he says he's had about 230 poems in around 110 issues of 95 magazines and e-zines. He shares that his poems are online, printed, or forthcoming at such sites and in such magazines as Parameter, Zygote in My Coffee, Erbacce, Sein und Werden and others. More information about him is online on MySpace and at the Hecale portal.

 

 

MOTIVATION:

 

“I was watching a splatter-parody film called Evil Ed, and considered how I would feel if my fiancée died. How we constitute ourselves from fragments of the dead.”

 

 

 

 

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