The New Mummies

how you lost yourself in the wire labyrinths,
dark plastic and green tea and blue screens,
how you drowned yourself in drugs and data,
downed pills for the headaches
and found thrills for the dead days
the afternoons that pressed down from sunny skies
like an avalanche of pillows and silence
surrounding you and her - taijitu -
the supposedly light and the supposedly dark,
huddled behind the crumbling arch of the front door
and the sad thin light of the net curtains

and how this deadness of now began then
as hearts on fire with romance and creativity
calmed and dwindled to embers in safety
kissed and held and rocked each other to a sleep
hidden deep in dirty cities, drugged up and wired
and roaming abroad in the astral of the web
bodies hunched and still in front of screens,
tended occasionally, like pharonic mummies,
organs quiescent in jars, skin pale,
the deafening quiet of the stone tomb
as the souls wandered in the Western Lands -
how we linked dead hands and sent our living spirits
into a bodiless land of dreams and futures