Poem About Death

It feels so strange Shameless to think of death When none of those one knows has died Last night I dreamt I was dead I came running with my dog into the room of the dead There was nothing to be seen Only stones and a few bushes A landscape that travellers have often spoken of I would rather not die here But in my own home, where I was not dead All the death All the death In the course of a life Write about death Describe in the poem what you feel, concerning death In the face of death, I'm like an animal And the animal can die, but write nothing The words die like flies Their corpses everywhere, swept away from the white paper Give the dirt a little room