I have a planet in my head
full of unsuccessful dead people.

It’s an aquatic planet, fortunately,
so their footsteps don’t bother me.

But the endless gurgling sounds
are enough to make me draw
my cotton bud of 20 pounds.

But damn it my ear
is like a needlepoint

and my rear is
too far away.

There is something about being dead
that demands success, lots of it.

Ever noticed
how knightly a
cotton bud can be?

For some reason,
knighting the dead requires
lots of gurgling sounds.

They can’t prove a thing, can they.