Someone's dead and we're all sad about it II

But we move apartments and adopt new pets.
We forget things.
The onetime your dog bites the head off a turtle,
you don't hate the dog for it.
After seventeen years in the same position, they tell you
it is now safe to move about the cabin
& the bent spine of things calls for a stretch,
you move limbs you forgot were yours.

But the thing is they aren't finished with you yet.
Over the megaphone they are calling your name,
they are calling us back to our seats, they are saying come back, come back
we have refreshments,
How could you leave so strong a hut?
come back, let us buckle you in
but then again when weren't they,

...Was there not always this?
a turbulence, a blind pacing dark,
the kind of laughter no one talks about,
a kind of label barely sticking to a tincan, a brief glimpse,
your tongue against its ceiling, also blind,
bicycle spokes spitting across a screen,
and the lights coming up.