THE GHOUL FACTOR
THE GHOUL FACTOR
by Aaron Fagan
Walking among woods outside Amherst,
Deer trails weave me a way through.
They say the people were high who made
The early elevator music on a tight deadline.
An old time laugh track on my headphones
Repeats the voices of all those dead now.
The form of a downed oak seduces me.
I take a few pictures on the roll after
The ones of Ben in his Ronald McDonald
Uniform telling me about what it was like
Getting fucked up with all the other Ronalds
At the annual national convention in Vegas.
Wry amusing comment of how we eat (recycle) the dead and thereby become edible ourselves–a culture of ghouls. Emily Dickinson may be tucked away in there.