Empty cemetery, New York City

Never is this city quiet
Only the fear of death could silence them
I am alone here
Surrounded by thousands of decaying bodies
Skeletons that do not feel any pain
Life stories soon to be forgotten
I conjure up a concoction of their memories
Some of them dared to really love
And it made them want to live more
But it also made them want to die more
Others got married
And viewed that date as much more important
Than world peace, global warming or an end to hunger
Oh the addiction to normative romantic intimacy
All that love and energy that could have been put in the whole community
Waisted on one single person
Once upon a time they spent their summers out at Coney Island
The worlds largest vacation resort
Now decay and rust
And even these skeletons will soon turn to dust
I want to ask them questions
But nobody answers
I figure that having been through death
Many of them must be wiser
Than any of my live friends
They do know what happens after death
And if they could
They probably would
Laugh at every single religious ceremony throughout history
You are all wrong!
On the subway everyone was coughing
The bodies being stubborn in their struggle to fight disease and stay alive
In spite of the knowledge that death brings with it much more glorification
Than life
But we fear it because we want to take part in it
We want to bask in the rosaries and admirations
We imagine heaven to make it a bit better
Because even when that bowling ball in our stomachs weighs worls
We hope for success
In this system that depends on the failure of 99 percent
In order to carry the weight of the riches of the 1 percent
Plastic & Stone
The more money the bigger the grave
Maybe we can even hire somebody to take care of it
That way we can guarantee the keeping of our image long after death.
Nobody has to know that your only real friend was a Vodka bottle.
Don't come crawling forth out of your grave when I bring it forth.
It would ruin your image!
Like Whole Foods and The Body Shop you are fully dependent
On everyone believing that you are decent.
Your conscience died when you were 30 - but your image is intact.
Your body died when you were 67 - but your image is intact.
It even has its own monument.
And now it is busy tackling unemployment.
Death carries with it job opportunities.
And it is the opportunities that give us the will to live.