June 3 2020 - Unfinished "The Dead Are Notoriously Hard to Organize"

This is a  poem under construction ... written in response to the prompt "The dead are notoriously hard to satisfy" a line from the introduction to Jack Spicer's book After Lorca. 

I admit, that this was from a Zoom session and I either misheard or mis-remembered the prompt, as you'll see from the first line. I suspect Jack Spicer wouldn't mind.

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The dead are notoriously hard to organize - even if they are regimented into rectangular

boxes, oriented in mostly the same direction, all at about the same six-foot depth.

The dead are notoriously hard to organize; they no longer listen to any moral

authority.  They are the moral authority, fixed in time, immutable now.

The dead are notoriously hard to satisfy, too -- what gifts appease them, what songs mollify them?

Escapees of the vibrational world stuck on the other side of the veil, no longer bound by space-time, no longer in need of quarks or boson-particles.

The dead are notoriously hard to pacify: they are always hungry. They rattle cages we can't feel; they roll down stairs for the hell of it; they cavort and caper in defiance of all the laws of gravity, of science, of belief.

The dead are notoriously hard to reach. Do they no longer want the attentions of this world or do they crave them too much?