They ask ya, who’d you like to have dinner
with? or fuck? or have a conversation

with? I’m the child of a witch and nightwalker,
trust me, hanging with the living as fun

is the last thing that the dead would ever
want to do. It’s not all local haunting

and brain eating; but it’s complete torture
to cross the void, called back by the living

for what? a cheap date? bad sex? to answer
questions? There’s a reason why famous dead

people aren’t spending time with me right now
and it’s not because they can’t. We offer

little but demand much. What the dead said
to me was this: “let me sleep, you daft cow.”