Gossiper's Resting Place

Midnight interment in the local tavern wall.
Bricks are chipped away, her dehydrated corpse is crammed in,
some folding is necessary.
Then trowel and cement keep a fast and secret rhythm.
If a brick or two sticks out who  cares,
for the wall is always dressed in puke.
She was a woman of keen ears, sharp tongue, and strong will.
Now her last will is being secretly followed.
They dare not disobey her.

Cypress Memorial Fields is green with swaying oaks,
green with swaying oaks, green with swaying oaks.
Hell. She never lived amid swaying oaks,
and falling acorns are a hazardous nuisance.
Squirrels forever gnaw acorns
while scurrying over those at eternal rest.
Her proper tomb is behind the tavern wall.
Her bones are kept busy,
especially the malleus, incus, and stapes.
Sadly the mandible is disarticulated.

Alice, John's wife, has her breasts caressed by Tony
every Friday night before they enter the alley.
Kathy, Tony's wife, shares a bottle with Dan
as they gyrate against the gossiper's tomb.
John gets high and pukes on the wall every Saturday night.

But it's Betty, the gossiper's childhood friend
who gives her bones an end-time revelation.
Betty and Joan, Joan and Betty, lip to lip.
Betty her forever friend and yet–
"Betty, Betty, not you Betty.
Betty, you were cheating me all those years."  

Richard Fein

If you've any comments on this poem, Richard Fein would be pleased to hear from you.