Sliced moonlight, cut like cheesecake
the half-circle of white glare: a moon of cats
the night majestic in silence
when above the terror of mouse-waters
death came with a banana.
Death, death is a little lavender boy
with gold dimples
twinkling, dustlike indentations
he smiles prettily at me.
His the wet, embalming hour
amber poured round my mouth
a snarf of orange and watery breath
like an invalid sodden with shoelaces
at last I come to the knot of things.
I see that life is piggybacks and stretched glass
if the king of the universe is my friend
will wait for my drip of jewels.
Gabriel Olearnik studied medieval history at University College, London. He is currently an attorney and practices corporate law.