to the obituary I won’t have,
the kind you don’t have to buy,
written before you die.
Reporters actually interview you for those,
bury them later in a place called,
believe it or not, the morgue.
But I prefer the tiny agate notices,
whole novels reduced to a one-inch note,
written about people no one knows,
paid for by loved ones who want
the world to know he loved Mozart,
she bred collies, his roses won a prize.
The same impulse that causes us
to paint, to plant trees,
splash graffiti on buildings,
trash cans, subway cars
rusting in old train yards –
To say: we were here
and we wanted someone to know.
Fran Schumer’s work has appeared in The New York Times, The Nation, The North American Review, and elsewhere. She won a Martha’s Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing poetry fellowship. Her chapbook, Weight, was published in 2022. She studied political theory at college but wished she spent more time reading Keats.
the kind you don’t have to buy,
written before you die.
Reporters actually interview you for those,
bury them later in a place called,
believe it or not, the morgue.
But I prefer the tiny agate notices,
whole novels reduced to a one-inch note,
written about people no one knows,
paid for by loved ones who want
the world to know he loved Mozart,
she bred collies, his roses won a prize.
The same impulse that causes us
to paint, to plant trees,
splash graffiti on buildings,
trash cans, subway cars
rusting in old train yards –
To say: we were here
and we wanted someone to know.
Fran Schumer’s work has appeared in The New York Times, The Nation, The North American Review, and elsewhere. She won a Martha’s Vineyard Institute of Creative Writing poetry fellowship. Her chapbook, Weight, was published in 2022. She studied political theory at college but wished she spent more time reading Keats.
Wonderful progression, wonderful conclusion, wonderful specificity. Kudos to the poet.
ReplyDeleteWell put.
ReplyDelete