A man emerged
from a wall
stood there halfway in
& halfway out
froze when he saw me:
“Sorry! ” he said
“I’m not used to being dead! ”
“And it’s hard
To get use to this
kind of travel.”
“Usually only
little kids notice me & smile.”
“Ask their Mams if they can go play
with the man in the wall! ”
“And their Mams give them a smack
and say don’t do that...you’re freaking me out! ”
“Ouch! ”
the kids say.
“I’m a poet! ”
I explained.
“Ahhh...that would explain
it! ”
He laughed.
“You’re just as likely
to make me up
even if I didn’t exist.”
“It’s odd to exist on this
level of non-existence! ”
“I’m sure you will
get used to it in time.”
“Oh...I’m sure I will...I will
but Time is so immaterial to me now! ”
“Just need a little more
practice at being a ghost.! ”
“Listen...could ya be a real pal
and pull me outta this wall! ”
“I’m very betwixt
& between
at the moment.! ”
I asked him
if he would like to go
and have
a cappuccino.
So we sat
at an outside table
(it was such a lovely day)
he & me.
He living his death
I living my dying.
People saw me
talking and gesticulating
to
my
self
but they passed
it off
thinking
I was
a poet.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/off-the-wall-for-onelia/
