here's me spiraling again
down the drain of memory
If only beloved ghosts
would just damn let me be
their molasses quicksand
grips my sanity so tight
pulls under with them to
that day of endless night
I know they don't mean to
they don't haunt me by choice
just hope that my riffing
helps me to hear their voice
Greeks I'm told do death
better and louder than we do
openly mourn and grieve
while I just sit and brew
and drink.
parroting dead platitudes
that people at funerals say
I want to yell "shine bright!"
at closing of Life's day
Squeezing tears like pee
I clutch my grief so tight
I wanna scream "rage, kick
fight against that good night!"
used up like a Kleenex
there's no way to explain
shocking tiny moments
mini mortars to the brain
his little flag lapel pin
small perfect things he did
in repose composed had me
wailing on his coffin lid
Get a grip they said as
I sat mind-shiva at our lake
all-knowing scolding me in
this farce they called a wake
they don't know shit about shiva
you gotta keen out your pain
rage, burn and yearn for times
you will never see again
Selah.
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