It was the perfect murder — the victim was still alive.
They were living just as before, unaware of any crime.
They went to work, came home, ate dinner, watched TV.
The next morning, they rose, got dressed, went to work
again. This continued, even though they were dead.
Perhaps it was suicide, the distraught victim self-vacated.
That kind of death is a lot more common these days.
Few will take responsibility for their morbidity,
their condition of already being deceased.
This life we live is tenuous at best, they explain.
Everyone is busy arriving and departing,
though nothing has really changed.
One can’t really say it’s like this or like that.
Sometimes we feel it’s as clear as can be,
then we phase back to confusion.
For the forensics to be definitive, one will need
to return to the moment when this current universe
first separated from the prior one and became its own
distinct story — a story of sorrow and joy, of victory,
defeat, of wisdom, stupidity, and of course murder.
The perfect murder will have no perpetrator. Every victim
is born with the glowing seed of their own death, a death
timed into their living which will be pointless to resist.
Even for you, it is coming. Maybe it has already happened,
yet you go on anyway, unaware. That is the perfect murder.
All the dead are going to work, then they are eating dinner
while watching themselves die over and over on TV.
Sometimes they switch to the 24-hour Weather Channel.
The announcer is calling for a prolonged death spell.
It will be murderous, so take every precaution.
Nobody will survive.