You surprised no one by dying of an overdose.
Was it glue or oven cleaner?
I can no longer recall, but I know
you enjoyed them both to the full.
Your time on earth was brief, though not brief enough
to keep you from torturing a cat to death
with leftover fireworks and a refrigerator box.
Why is sharing the pain always easier than sharing the joy?
Or perhaps you had no joy to share
other than the joy of glue and oven cleaner and torture.
At a certain point all arguments become circular.
The best thing about you was your gay uncle
who would recite Tennessee Williams
to a roomful of teenagers who thought he was making it up.
He referred to the home where he grew up as a living hell,
and I’m sure it was no different for you,
yet somehow you didn’t emerge from it
tenderly quoting Tennessee Williams, and he did.
All these years later I still ponder it,
the mystery of evil, as I light the memory
of a roman candle and toss it in with you
in the refrigerator box of my mind.

TAGS: , ,

KURT LUCHS has poems published or forthcoming in Into the Void, Right Hand Pointing, Antiphon and The Sun Magazine. He placed second for the 2019 Fischer Poetry Prize, and won the 2019 Atlanta Review International Poetry Contest. He has written humor for the New Yorker, the Onion and McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, as well as writing comedy for television and radio. His books include a humor collection, It’s Funny Until Someone Loses an Eye (Then It’s Really Funny) (2017 Sagging Meniscus Press), and a poetry chapbook, One of These Things Is Not Like the Other (2019 Finishing Line Press). More of his work, both poetry and humor, is at kurtluchs.com.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *