The Funeral
I can’t stop thinking about you
dead by the road, where grandpa crashed
thirteen years ago. I was seven,
shook from slumber
by my mother, breaking
the news that her father was gone.
And I, fathered,
was too young to understand
his leaving
meant building life upon
disappearances:
a table with one less plate,
his car, headed nowhere.
The Marlboro, unsmoked,
made the air suffocating
in this house with
too
much
space.
I was young when I learned death follows
life—the shadow tethered to our feet.
Each morning, we begin our wake,
listening to the hymns
of our youth. The radio,
playing eulogies
for what has passed.
at night, the mourning lingers:
I shake myself awake,
troubled by the thought of you
against the pavement,
of blood
on you, of mine
in me.
I rehearse each of your rides home as the last—
Counting forty dinners, forty Marlboros,
collecting our final goodbyes.
See me grieve in your presence
so when the night of disappearances fills
the house again, I might find a life
not
completely
undone.
Editors for The Funeral not yet setup.
New Beginnings is our third and final volume of 2020. It is also our longest yet, with close to 100 pieces having been sent in for review from over 80 writers. Additionally, this volume marks a step towards making our initiative even more inclusive, having opened submissions for art and photography, too.
2021 may not be the new beginning for which we are all hoping. In fact, it is likely that the world will stay largely the same. However, that doesn’t stop us doing what we can to make it a little better. In supporting and being involved in an initiative whose primary motivation is to build one another up, our team and readership have certainly proven to be committed to making positive change already.
First published by Ta Voix 2020