Reports of My Death Are Right on the Money

Questions my son asks about the past
prefaced by the words
“Dad, when you were alive…”
he’s a smart boy
to hold such complicated knowledge
fully aware I am dead
it doesn’t matter
that words still find their way
onto paper
or I take the stage
vent all my love and rage
drink until dizzy
hold court
and pontificate loudly
as pro as a pope
because he can witness all this
call it life
but he knows the deductions to make
it’s simple subtraction is all it is
take away what’s already been lived
and that living’s been stopped
leaving death
thus, he has it
the only appropriate way to inquire
“When you were alive
did flights of birds cross the clear summer skies?”
“They did.”
“When you were alive
did those skies hum the song of humankind’s collected brilliance?”
“They did not.”
this is the afterlife
and we’re already in it


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One Response to “Reports of My Death Are Right on the Money”

  1. mukul chand Says:

    great poem

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