Obituary The anthropoid measure of a coffin’s space clasps her in its shape’s embrace as liquid seeping from necrotic cells turns joinery into a wooden well. Worms tangle the focus of her eyes as they eat the blackness of her lies, annelid casts in two bony holes detritus blinding their sockets’ fill. How flexibly the wind-combed grass parts around her memorial’s carved cartouche as it unfolds a scroll texting death’s dimensions, the metaphysics of its stone conventions. On another headstone a mortal span stems bright flowers in a watering can. Bernard Hardy