Dead Letter Office (for Bartleby)

Dead letter, dead letter
 Another dead letter
  
 No better, no better
 It’s getting no better
  
 Inaction, inaction
 Inaction is The Way
  
 The only way, the only way
 Only way for the color-sucked soul
  
 Fetal position in prison courtyard grass is
 Inaction:
  
 Think if grass tickling,
 Unanswered,
 Unscratched, itch develops–
  
 How far will it go?
 ‘Til death?
 Does it then mercifully part from its host?
  
 Will the itch infect the grubs that feed upon the corpse of the unscratched?