Carbon Monoxide (influenced a little bit my Ms. Spektor)

One day in November we went to sleep and lay undisturbed
for three months. Our electricity bill arrived
on time and we received phonecalls and letters
squabbling over payments for the car, overdue,
then defaults, repossession orders, legal documentation.

Work called, and called, but gave up on no-good students.
Our gas bill was massive and a guy came round to cut it off
but we weren’t in, we were sleeping, hibernating most likely
he noted to himself, with a pencil, and whistled. No relations

came to call. My msn flashed like a police siren, we haven’t
seen you for a while, are you ignoring me? I know you are online!
Eight offers for a penis enlargement were proposed. What’s your problem!
Declined, as you haven’t attended seminar classes for a semester.

The blame piled up, like fog. Headache tablets to be collected, responsibility
that you couldn’t just hide from, that you couldn’t brush aside
and hide under bettabuy jam. We never re-signed for the house so
they brought first-years to come and see it. And this is the bedroom…

We were sleeping when they came in. Our naked bodies
were wrapped like a mortis lock, unbreakable as code,
conjoined and wrought in rotten ice, a statue celebrating love.
Weeping room awoke, and blood crept to the floor
where the rats had ripped open my sleeping lovers torso

like a scene from some documentary on Belsen, and our clothes
lay naked, slobbered over by the hungry mould. Our hands clung
to the accidental catafalque and decay steamed up
the windows. We could have caressed our names onto the walls
like lovers vows carved into a tree.

I would have walked you home in the morning.
You’d had a headache for days, since you came round, two days ago
and never went home. We rested a while, chatted, kissed.
I held your hand, listened to your heartbeat, its irrelevant strong pulse,
clung to you, sighed. Soon we’ll go to sleep, soon we’ll go to sleep…