His slack-jawed mug hung beyond mastication.
Spent and rigid with vacant expectation,
health had ceased to be rude any more.
That’s the tacky-paged girlie mags under the bed,
and the unfortunate find of the body
in the shed with trousers around his ankles.
Such difficulties were dutifully picked up,
carried away and binned with wordless precision.
Stone glances hid between starched folded-back sheets,
leaving stiff family members to gather
together to count the cost and pray awhile
through clenched frowns and bowed concern.
They tidied the empty bed where things had begun,
and closed the door tight on his lonely, sticky end.