Today,
I almost called my dad
to ask him to recount
the tragic death
of a friend for a poem
Could you imagine?
"Hey dad,
yes , hi, how are you?
can you tell me the story of that guy
you knew who died while skiing?
can you dig up that grief again? for me? please?
Could you imagine?
The cruelest part is
I don't even remember
the name of his friend
because he has more friends
that are dead than alive
(Could you imagine?)
I still might ask...
No (i shouldn't)
It isn't kind
"Hey dad,
what's that guy's name
the one who owned the cross country ski facility
the one who killed himself when i was about 7?
"Hey dad,
what's that name
of your friend who was a
super cool snowboarder but
then died of an overdosed?
"Hey dad,
what was that ladies name?
the one who had cancer?
Could you imagine?
Me using his pain - Taking it - Abusing it - Trying it on - Imagining it as my own
Just to write a poem?
How callus. How cruel. How unkind.
Could you imagine?
YOU ARE READING
It Could Have Been Gentle - poetry
PoesíaPoems about the bits of life that feel unnecessarily sharp. ~ Nails in palms and rock in throat and eyes latched in the ground, I open up in hopes of speech and find a choke of sound, Frantic thought of desperation fly beneath my hair, I don'...
