Ever go to the cemetery?
I go there a lot.
People talk to the headstones.
I like to switch the headstones around.
People lay flowers on the wrong graves. Or they pour out beer or wine into the wrong grave.
It’s not about the dead for them. It’s about the living.
The living mow the grass. The living blow the leaves off of the sidewalks.
I’m not here for the living. I’m here for the dead.
I’ve got a shovel, a burlap sack, and a dark witch down the street who buys finger bones.
Need anything while I’m down there?