Going to the Cemetery on my Lunch Break

It helps,
on shitty afternoons,
to sit with the dead
and eat a roast beef sandwich.

This mossy breeze
comes up from the pond.
Black swans sit in the roads
and don't move when I drive by.
A pregnant woman waddles past
the graves where all the infants are.

It helps,
on days like this,
to escape the incessant noise
of the living--
to spend an hour in a place
that's quiet
and green.

I went and had my lunch at Hollywood Forever cemetery today (you probably gathered as much from the poem). It felt kinda goth but there's really nothing else that can make me feel so serene, so quickly, as a trip to their grounds. When I got there, I was on the verge of tears. Thirty minutes later I was ready to come back to my desk and this computer and all the people in the world who breathe and talk and talk too much and say things that don't matter. Kind of like this.