Playmate planet.

Faded, these vaguely 

Humanoid imprints of

Unreal jockeys 

Legendary attendants of 

The cubicle antechamber.

Lacking arguments

Defendants defend,

Without words, 

The dead.

"Their laziness is justified"

They tell the court in pantomime

The relentless living

That they've done up 'till now

Was proudly leading up to,

Keeping score 

For this do-nothing sleep

Seeps through the soil

Earning your keep.

You see

But don't you mention the meat

In the coffins that keep them

No words to complete them

Horrifically shifted

Shapes of limbs

Ironically twisted 

Into wreaths of shins

So their spokesmen stay silent

Unearthed in the dripping

Sky sweat. 

Eroding whole realities 

Zombify the dirt, 

But not the paupers in the pit

(The downpour lasts a century)

Who slipped?

Fell out 

Window ledge observatory 

Clouded panes

Fallout and

Radiation pain

Across rooftops expanded 

Beating a retreat

Back into

The ground it was pounded on

Liquefied the lenses

Of the leaping observational ledges. 

Terrain return,

A slow sideways turn

Screws it slowly down more, 

And up through the core

Of what might be a world, 

And what might be a toy.