Common and Particular

I like these men and women who have to do with death,
Formal, gentle people whose job it is,
They mind their looks, they use words carefully.

I liked that woman in the sunny room
One after the other receiving such as me
Every working day. She asks the things she must

And thanks me for the answers. Then I don’t mind
Entering jour particulars in little boxes,
I like the feeling she has seen it all before,

There is a form, there is a way; But also
That no one come to speak up for a shade
Is like the last, I see she knows that too

I’m glad there is a form to put your details in,
Your dates, the cause. Glad as 1 am of men
Who'll make a trestle of their strong embrace

And in a slot between two other slots
Do what tire’ have to even working day:
Carry another weight for someone else.

It is common You are particular.