speak to the dead

i wish i can speak to the dead
and they would answer me back
i just want to talk about stuff
that i have the flu
problems to solve
drama dad
whose love i dont feel
the dead would know what to do
because they're dead
they have seen in all
before their eyes
as they lay and rot
worms making tunnels
out of swollen flesh
they have seen who come to see
and speak to them
in the wee hours
in the dampness of the graveyard
caretakers begging for money
they are lurking with a promise
in their faces, saying:
i'll cut your grass, too
when you're down under
and i'll speak to you
more often
than
you're own daughter