connected to a dead man
on LinkedIn. In real life
I met him only once.
Talked to him on the phone thrice.
He was nice. He
was also old. 80, I think.
Drank coffee and
wore gray trousers. He smiled large
with nearly perfect teeth framed
in plastic pink.
If I disconnect from him, cut him free,
somewhere in the Great Beyond
(where he currently resides)
will he feel the sever of my
Will he blur and spark
as he begins
f a d e
an aged Cheshire
indentured to our memory
as in Kevin Brockmeier’s
The Brief History of the Dead?
And what if he has something to say
from the Great Beyond? “Sure,” you say,
“If he has something profound to say
from the grave, why would he choose LinkedIn to do it?”
Well, why wouldn’t he?
Will he haunt my bedside, asking,
did you give up on me?
What did our connection cost you?”
Will I stutter and clear my throat, mumbling
something about how my LinkedIn profile
is only for real people,
and will he stare
and tap his foot
and point his ghostly cursor to my outstanding invitation to
who is clearly not the real
Independent Entertainment Professional,
but an equally faceless smirk-bearing entity
of superstar SizzleLean
to jump the queue
from 6 degrees to a mere
I’m connected to dead man and
I do not know what
to do with