LIFE AFTER DEATH

I can't remember the day you left,

because you left like the monsoon.

Raining a little less everyday, 

till one day there was no rain.

The earth was dry

and winter had cracked up both the sky

and the earthly graves.

The dead were suddenly free,

they dragged their half-putrid remains

across the streets in broad daylight.

And the policemen chased them 

with flashlights and spades,

but the dead could not be caught.

They disguised as the living

entered houses and stomachs and hearts

and now noone can tell the difference.