Cemetery, Yusuf Kidwai
I built myself a coffin
somewhere in my mind
though being trapped for all eternity
will only add to my condition.
Perhaps a steady cremation
So none of me exists
Spread me, extend me, to the places
I’ll never get to see
A foreseen flaw bears familiar frustrations
for who would carry me around
in a glossy black urn
And wait for Reykjavik with Patience.
Oh to dust the icy waters with my skin
Exhale the salt, make a few friends
Handsome locals I could fall in love with,
It’s a shame I lost my heart some time ago
guess I’ve never fully recovered
From being eighteen.
and that all-knowing voice
say I had potential
the inevitable goodbyes
imprisoning patterns, feared the most
Until I plunged underwater and watched my worries burn
For who would travel with me in my urn?
Instead I was laid in a crowded row
of unsuitable neighbours
I think I had potential.