My Death Space Dot Com
Now that obituaries come online
with coroner reports and full disclosure,
imagine the ways to betray a man
come out of hiding to die. Ask the bloggers
who weigh in on my friend’s bad habit,
who make of it their own drug strung out
across a mirror, so when they pay tribute
to their power, how they had their doubts
about his talent, his flu, I think how lucky
I was to receive the kindness of the weak.
My death space, as they call it, as if it’s me
who died. A life, we know, is complex.
But death is simple. A place to talk shit,
to license grief, or barring that, to kill it.
