This morning I woke up

and on igoogle I read about Yvette.

She starred in horror movies

and was Playboy’s centerfold

in the fifties.

She’s been found 

mummified

on her bed in L.A.

It’s not uncommon, 

they say.

Nobody saw her for four months

And no one cared.

A scene straight out of Lynch.

Yesterday I was helping Jasmine

with her Italian

while drinking mojitos

and eating carrot cake.

“I don’t wan’t to die alone.”

She’s twenty.

“You’re not going to,

darling.”

I’m hugging her.

“Or wait, we all are.”

What happens once we’re dead

shouldn’t matter but it does.