The dead man practices a healthy deathstyle. Now is the dead man's time to be ransacked. It appears to the dead man that not to be is still to be, yonder and hence. The dead man will last, but not for the usual reasons. The dead man has been there, and he's been here, and he likes it here.
Thawed blood flows back into numbed limbs.
A jumpy pulse increasingly interrupts the horizontal. Let the grass flagellate the earth, still the dead man lingers. Let the wind tug the hair shirt of the burial site, the dead man tarries.