You can do that with words, use one
for the other.

You see this life is lived
on the premise that it is worth living it.

This is one of several works paying homage to your memory.
In prior compositions, a chain of association began and ended
at your face. Here your negligent features are just a link—just

In the beginning is the paper, blank and void.
That’s the way you buy it, the unwritten “word”.
The clean slate of your law-abiding citizen

We made a black thing
out of light-without effort.

Can’t you see I’m the one bearing
the perfect attendance medal
across my chest, and an award

The sky has come down around us like a shroud.

Use plain language.

Wind shrieked a desperate warning. Then the train—shaft
of iron!—running right through me! I slammed the book on
my finger.

Strands of hair pushed through the floorboards,
and once the whole corpse
came late to a party.

vive morte ma seule saison
lis blancs chrysanthèmes