Her eyes were fixed upon
A distant horizon
Half-closed, staring, seeing nothing
While Batman, Robin, and the Silver Surfer
Battled evildoers in azurine iris skies
Her pupils remained fixed
Neither dilating nor contracting with each
heroic struggle for the forces of good.
Andy Warhol splashed canvasses in copy machine color
The Beatles sang The Fool on the Hill
And Ginsberg showed a generation the
werewolf in the mirror with Howl
While latex-gloved hands closed her eyes
And placed a sheet over her face.
Bellies expanded, joyful flesh was torn
And slippery souls wailed
their greetings to the world
While she lie in her coffin
Pressing against the sharp velvet
Trying to escape.
But the Earth covered her
While the spade was
Just within arm’s reach.