Words at Midnight

They think we’re cute. They think
We’ll help them. Messages
They can send the living.

Ghosts adopt us at night.
Wraiths, the original
Stand-ins for homelessness,

Who understand the bare
Horror that human homes
Require other humans,

Otherwise you’re banished,
Hanging around the edge
Of the circle of light,

Food, sleep, camaraderie.
This haunting metaphor
Had its roots in ape troops.

Once expelled, your chances
On your own were near nil.
Thanks to words, this problem

Was passed on beyond death,
To the idea the dead
Feel themselves dead to you.

Your fear of the return
Of the kin you expelled
Coming back for revenge

Became your fear of ghosts,
Thanks to us. That’s why ghosts
Think we’re cute, think we’ll help.