The dead do      what they want which is nothing— sit there, mantled,      or made real by photographs in silver frames,      or less real by our many ministrations. Dusting. Bleach. The world      swept, ordered, seemingly unending. The dead, listless,      lazy, grow tired & turn off the TV— or like a father passed      out in an easy chair during the evening news       what’s watched now does the watching. Kevin Young Mantle