Mr Mascellani's Musings

Original

Bring out your dead!
I'm not listening.

Sharon hangs out her washing,
notes to herself that the new powder
removed all the vomit and blood.

Bring out your dead!
I can't hear you.

When Sharon was a child
her parents enrolled her
in tap dancing classes.
On the 9th of July, 1974, 10:35 p.m.
they burned to death at home.
Zoloft, and Lithium, and Prozac- - oh, my!

Bring out your dead!
No! Leave me alone.

Sharon sees a cloud that looks like Gertrude Stein,
realises she will never see Tasmania, Kentucky, or Prague.

Inside her house,
where her PC sits,
there's a globe of the world,
a present from her deceased husband.

Bring out your dead!
OK, ok, ok.

Good girl, good girl.
Bring out your dead
Bring them on out,
we'll put them in this 'barrow
with all these other corpses
and take them away.


The voices lie.
There's no 'barrow filled with corpses.
Sharon is stuck with her dead.
And, under her house, tarantulas fuck.

When she goes to bed, she dreams
she's on stage at the 'Sands"
tap dancing with Sammy Davis JR.

The next morning,
It begins again:

Bring out your dead!

Rewrite

"Bring out your dead"

As Sharon hangs out the clothes,
she notes that the new powder
removed his vomit and blood.

When Sharon was a child,
she went to dancing classes.

"I don't wanna go to tap dancing class anymore, Mummy".

On the 9th of July, 1974, 10:35 p.m.
her parents burned to death in their home.

Therapy. Zoloft. Lithium. Prozac.

Back in her house,
on her desk,
where her PC sits,
there's a globe of the world
which was a present from her sick husband.

Rain clouds begin to threaten her washing,
And she realises that she will never see Vegas.

When she goes to bed, she dreams
she's on stage at the 'Sands"
tap dancing with Sammy Davis JR.

But the next morning,
It begins again:

Bring out your dead!