when they were living
when they were living they were children first
and only later became dead men, adults
and later corpses, even deader,
so meanings for them were flowers,
words, and absurdity - they were worlds
that were empty and answers i forgot already
falling thus from heaven, arms flailing
like a crane fly dying blind in the night,
like a child – when they were living
they were me, they were you,
they were lost in time
David McLean is Welsh though he has lived, rather reluctantly, in Sweden since 1987. So he knows what it's like to be dead. He has a couple of chapbooks out, one a free download, here, at Whyvandalism. The other, in print, can be ordered at http://www.erbacce-press.com/davidmclean/4527659941. He has a full length poetry collection available at Whistling Shade Press called Cadaver's dance. It can be ordered on alibris.com or on amazon.com. A second book of 128 pp is coming from Erbacce-press in August, "pushing lemmings." There is a self-published book of 109 pages at Lulu called "eating your night" - http://www.lulu.com/content/2756039. There are round 600 poems now in, or forthcoming, in just over 250 magazines online and/or in print. Details are at his blog at http://mourningabortion.blogspot.com.