I need to give my dead
a stern talking-to. Sit
them down. Set some
rules. When, when not
to pop up. No more
dispelling hard-found
anger with misinformed
nostalgia. No sticking
their faces in my mirror.
Personification of dishes
and sundry gewgaws will
desist. They should keep
their music to themselves.
Wafting cigarette smoke
is carcinogenic, it’s not