The Plastic Shroud

The pic is of me at my very first Sydney Gay Mardi Gras in 1985...

THE PLASTIC SHROUD
08.02.81

SOMEWHERE SOMEONE IS SPYING
IN AN UNDIGNIFIED MANNER,
DISEMBODIED FROM THE LIFE AND TIMES
OF ‘NOW’.
HE REFUSES TO LIE STILL IN THE DARK
EXACTLY WHERE I LEFT HIM.
HE HOLDS HIS WAKE INSISTENTLY,
REMINDING ME OF THE NAGGING CHILL
IN A PAST THAT NEVER SLEEPS.

I KILLED HIM, I KNOW,
BUT THE DEAD WILL NOT LIE STILL.
HE CLAWS THE LID
BLOOD UNDER FINGERNAIL,
ALL BECAUSE OF WHAT I WAS,
HOW I THOUGHT,
WHO I’VE COME TO BE.

EVEN NOW AS I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP
HE WANDERS AROUND MY ROOM,
TANGLED IN A PLASTIC SHROUD.
EVERYTHING IS NOT AS IT SEEMS.

Kristofer