The suit’s new,
Shoes too!
I have never seen a coffin before,
and this open lid is inviting everyone in.
Brand new,
Beautiful,
Breathing underneath an array of flowers and crosses.
I am out of my element.
Josiah is hanging on every wall;
Resting on every flat surface,
Lying with his hands crossed at the waist.
Colby is on my left, and I can see his eyes bleed.
Brian is on my right, and he looks like a goddamn trash man.
Trash man or not, we are all driving down memory lane.
There is so much dust on the back roads of Cape Cod.
Pills and abuse,
Laughter and youth,
Old scars want to open new and forgotten stories
hop back into my lap
and a child is born.
Just 45 minutes ago we rushed to
get to the wake, actually laughed at how
late we were running.
It felt like you were riding along in the car with us.
He was never on time for anything.
Just like old times
You were running back on Dory Lane but you couldn’t escape,
Running with a needle in your hand, and a guilty conscience.
That car crash on the highway that you slept through.
The life you ended in New Jersey.
“Ya shoulda told me about that weight!” But I know shame is powerful.
I saw you head a million directions, and never open your eyes.
Who wants to see a monster?
Afraid of change, but constantly in flux–
Do you get it now?
Has the wax been removed from your ears?
Does the filter still obscure your vision?
“Some things you gotta do on your own!”
Sonny said, ¨You’re born into this world alone and you gotta leave this world alone.¨
You understand now? Suicide Messiah?
An old joke takes a new twist.
Or an old joke was just a signpost we misread.
The room is swollen,
Reflecting on all we cannot control
Quiet goodbyes and apologies glide through the air.
You were yearning to be free, yet you held onto everything.
A suitcase filled with doubt that you brought everywhere,
I suppose you are all done holding onto things.
Honestly, I am a bit envious.
Done with fear,
Done with your name,
Done with the vehicle I am standing in front of.
You don’t look too comfortable in that box Joey bear;
And I don’t feel too comfortable seeing you in that box.
Make up doesn’t suit you.
I’m gonna leave one of my guitar picks with you, before I go.
I don’t know why, but I’m gonna do it.
If God is more than three letters, let me know.
There is a line behind me;
The ceremony continues.
Keith, Shannon. “Beach at monomoy national wildlife refuge cape cod”. Wikimedia, 25 October 2016, https://commons.wikimedia.org.
