"Sorry to hear about your loss"'s
Are wooden and rigid
Templates learnt and regurgitated
Out of the mouths of puppets.
There are the hard-eyed portraits
On the wall with nothing
To say. There are caricatures
Who never cease to stop.
"Are you okay?" trickles out
Of the mouths of the mindless.
Questions back me into corners and
I have no choice but to nod my head.
The false testimony that is "yes"
Is as wooden and rigid as the rest.
There are too many timber slabs
Around me - I want to burn them all.
Let me set fire to your words
Before you bother to let them out.
I am sincerely sorry that I have
A loss for you to be so sorry about.
May the match put an end
To your stilted statements and constant
Questions. Unless in that corner,
I can find my grandmother again.