accordion graveyard 

don't be sad about the end 
of the world. on tv tonight
we watch a show on "dark tourism."
the host visits a japanese coastline 
where a tsunami swallowed people's lives whole.
he walks in a graveyard & says,
"the stones were the only thing
too heavy to be washed away."
one of his crew members takes selfies
by the rubble. what do the dead know
about reverence? i once had a friend
who found an accordion at a flea market.
it belonged to a dead man as all accordions do. 
he played it poorly week after week.
sat on the stoop outside our dorm.
whenever he played i could see the grim reaper.
he waltzed slowly & all alone.
i imagined stealing the accordion 
& burying it out behind the houses on main street.
there i could begin an accordion graveyard.
what do you tell yourself,
trying to make it true? as if it were a spell?
mine is the do not being sad
about the end of the world. i guess it is
already here & we are already making 
our homes in it & we are already walking
in accordion graveyards. the ones 
beneath our feet & the ones in our throats.
sometimes i open my mouth
to see rubble. to see a man taking a selfie
& his sunglasses. reflections of 
a powdered moon. the grim reaper 
living in every window. my friend, now a flock
of geese. now a fallen tree where no one
has heard it. at the end of the scene 
the host man says, with regret in his voice,
"this place is so sad" as if he thought
he would find something else
visiting a site of destruction. the ghosts laugh at him. 
sky greys like a mouthful of feathers. 
spirits get our their accordions & play. 
don't be sad about the end of the world.