Dear James Whale
I must have peace and this is the only way
–suicide note
A question of creation: your discovery
was ours and ours
to despise. Its cries were ours, its fear
of burning. You understood
how ugly we think we are. If you recognized
eternal life could hold
eternal pain, I cannot blame you for
covering your eyes
or leaving them open, looking up toward
a watery sun
while everything blurred and reverted
to black and white.
In a pitched cemetery, we topple stones
and trees. We secret
ourselves among our criminal dead. Truth is,
we prefer the ground.