Well, not really. And I’m not someone who tries to talk to the dead because I don’t think they’re listening. But anyway, Plum Tree Books wrote about poetry and death–two things often seen together–and the post suggested trying to write a poem with the title I Can Talk to the Dead.

I am not a poet. I wrote poetry in high school and college–as English majors are wont to do–but most of those poems should probably be burned before reading. All the same, I’ve decided to push my boundaries and take up Dr. Koshy’s challenge. And I’ve also decided to inflict my effort upon you.

Here you go.

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I Can Talk to the Dead

I can talk to the dead, you see
though I fail to hear them talk to me.
Perhaps the dead don’t wish to say
that I shall join them in my own way.
Or maybe many things are said
that I take for voices in my head.
How many dead do you now know?
And do they see everywhere you go?
Does the afterworld require
Love for angels and fear of fire?
Tell me, Love, about when you die,
If I can talk, will you please reply?