Rituals #1

by Melanie Browne

Every night I stay up late,
watching dead Socialites

parade,  the snakes crawling out of their eyes,
as the  worms play  on the sequins in

their Vera Wang dresses,
Ray-bans melting  against their skulls,

they fuss and fiddle with their oversized handbags
while gossiping  behind rotting silk scarves

voices echo  from my television screen
where the living and the dead live it up,

Their quiet and abandoned eyes
beg me to sign their  moldy social registers,

I shake my head no, but they force it into my hand where
it crumbles into pieces like their Park Avenue Dreams