Bongos
for mama
chemtrails made the sky a crossword
and the day was chillier than yesterday
I played the bongos at your grave
to say thanks for the music
imagining a child doing fortnite dances
in the new grass on the hole you lay in
I would have been that kid
if I had been born in 2008
too old to be an Obama baby
too childish to have a baby.
I’d heard they’d have the cure for cancer
by the time I got cancer
which could be true,
but not for you.
(this isn’t how he really died
he was cremated
in LA and it was hot outside
and I wasn’t even there)
