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Career

Julian Woods

Jun 01 2011

1 mins

Apprenticed to an undertaker
A career perhaps, it was said
And there they were laid out around
More like a closet than a room.
He said, I’ll show you
And he sat up this girl
The shroud falling down.

I said, Dead? her eyes are moving,
Almost a smile. I felt some hope.
He jiggled her shoulders gently
And said no, this often happens.

You will learn, this liquid
Pour carefully—embalming,
Stops,—you’ll get used to it.
And, this chap, fifty years in the one house
In B——. I said, why! I was there!
The face looked familiar
What was his name?
Something Polish or something like,
Well, it could have been him
It was some time ago.

The room crowded and life was on its way.
 

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