Day 131 – For Doreen

I forgot to put on sunscreen for the funeral. I didn’t even change out my sneakers for the heels I had packed the night before, so worried about being respectful. I thought those things would matter but death has a way of mocking the little formalities we observe. The dead don’t care what you’re wearing.

But you would’ve reminded me about the sunscreen. The two of us, forever indoors and longing for the beach, our weekends filled with texting screenshots of art projects and Amazon purchases, were so looking forward to the summer we’ve earned. You took your vitamins and your Claritin and paid extra for the UV protection in your sunglasses. I skid in daily on four hours of sleep and haven’t eaten a real vegetable in weeks. Something in the great cosmic milieu tells me there’s something unfair in you being the one who had to go, and me being the one who got to stay. I can’t even remember to put on sunscreen.

Your funeral was filled with the sort of people who would not, and did not, care if I showed up in sneakers. They did not mind that I obviously have the self-preservation instincts of a small child, as evidenced by my beet-red arrival to the memorial. They didn’t judge because you didn’t judge.

You were so well-loved by everyone. It took me by surprise how much I had come to love you, not because of who you are but because of who I am. It may be self-centered to think about it, but I’m not sure I could scrounge up more than a handful of people if my funeral was tomorrow. I burn too many bridges. But you never did; even those who managed to offend you were treated with your signature grace. You left this world with no enemies, and you left it far better than you found it.

So perhaps, in the great cosmic milieu, there’s something fair after all about you being the one who earned that endless summer vacation, and me being the one who has to keep struggling on without you. Where you are you don’t need sunscreen; I’ll try to remember mine from now on.

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Day 100 – Lifeblood

We were born in a world
that promised us love,
that preached us backyard summers,
that taught us the value of honest work

We were born in a world
that fed us cinema,
that baited us with dreams it spun,
that led us to the brink and let us go

Come to find,
love’s a scheme we can’t afford
Come to find,
our honest work is not enough
Come to find,
we don’t deserve the things
we selfishly assumed
that we had every right
to desire

And so we are a generation spoiled by
ideology that we did not approve;
now we are a congregation ruled by
technology that we did not invent

Yet we’re the ones who have to fix the system,
the honest work for which they trained us up-
and we don’t have
any lifeblood
to spare.

Day 50 – I’m Staying in the Pool Today

I’m staying in the pool today
soaking up the last of the sun
because I know tomorrow means
the end of all my fun

I’m staying in the pool today
even after it gets dark
this may be my last chance to swim
so today I am a shark

I’m getting shriveled in the pool today
but I don’t care at all
they say that summer’s at its end
but I don’t care for fall

It’s getting pretty chilly in the pool today
my bones are frozen throughout
but I don’t care if the weekend’s done-
I’m still not getting out!

The Beginnings Of My First Anthology (!!!)

I have begun serious work on my first poetry anthology, scheduled to be released this summer! Scouring over almost 300 poems is no easy task :/ I know what my favorites are, but condensing them down to an appropriate chunk is proving difficult, not to mention the work of spit-shining them for publication. Blahhh. But I’m looking forward to such a daunting undertaking…

My question to you, loyal readers, is this: what are some of your favorites? Especially those of you who’ve been along for the ride with me for a while, are there any that stick out to you from the rest that you’d like to see included?

As always, feedback is much appreciated 🙂

Char