Our classical bodies,
our romantic minds,
our reasonable presence,
our figurative thoughts.
Real, fake,
connected how?
Lift arm,
raise head?
Vessels, corpses haunted,
pale stark ghosts,
ideas of the past.
Diminished,
recycled?
Who's to say,
besides those that don't return.
Never know, never know,
never care, never care.
Goodnight, sweetheart.
Never know,
I never care.
Justin Baker
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ghosting-along/
