They are waiting to take us
into the severed garden.
Do you know how pale and
wanton thrillful comes Death
on a strange hour? Unannounced
unplanned-for, like a scaring,
over-friendly guest you’ve
brought to bed.

Death makes angels of us all
and gives us wings,
where we had shoulders
smooth as ravens’ claws.
No more money, no more fancy dress,
this other kingdom seems by far the best,
until its other jaw reveals incest, and
loose obedience to a vegetable law.

I will not go.

Prefer a Feast of Friends
to the Giant family.

-Jim Morrison
from “An American Prayer”