WAKE  UP

That's not an alarm clock 
It is a corpse

In bed 
With you
Its lips pressed to your eyelids

With a picture of you
Spindled around one green rib
Its white hair
Its blue lips  

Look   It is pointing
At the window   There in bright sunlight
A tall man with a pair of pliers
Seems to be staring at the gold
Solid in several of your hollow teeth

by John McKernan