How Death Hits Me (4/20/96)

the tears flow
thinking about Grandma and Grandpa playing
pinochle at the kitchen table in the
little house they lived in in Omaha.
with my mom, the Sisters, and my uncles.

two uncles,
Grandpa,
then Grandma -- all dead.
i didn't do enough for them.
i didn't cry for them.
i didn't do a thing for them.
how can i do anything for them?

too afraid to really cry
for fear the dam will break
unleashing a wave of sadness
unleashing a wave of regret
unleashing waves of failure
unleashing wave upon wave of pain
unleashing my humanity
unleashing my mortality
unleashing my fragility

i'm scared in the knowledge that
i am just a soap bubble full
of salt and water and bones
trying to stay in one piece
while floating over a rocky shore
during a hurricane.

"i sing songs to my father
i'll sing songs to a child"
here and now.
must carry on.
haven't cried for a long time, so why now?

the day is soon nigh
to cry
and die
and
be alive.

not dead yet,
but not quite alive.


tom loos