SandScript 2022

Death and Claptrap
Carol Spitler Korhonen
“May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be always at your back”
and other Irish claptrap hauled out for funerals, wakes
memorial services, prayer cards, sermons and speeches
but I’m too angry for that
What should I do with this anger?
What can I do with this anger?
Yes, you confessed to a liver transplant,
but not that it was failing
You should have spent years with her
not a thin packet of months
And my daughter is crying again
because your damn truck is in the driveway
and I too forget and look for you
until I remember
Like your dog, Osa, who keeps running out to
the end of the lane to find you
and I slow when I pass that certain door
and double take on some look-alike in the street
I needed you to stay
not be thinner and thinner and then go
I needed you to stay and be the man that she deserves
my sweet, still young daughter with all the bad luck
Surely you could have tried harder to stay so I could
watch her eyes shine at the sound of your voice on the phone
watch her bask in wonder at your effortless attention
watch her sleep curled in perfect peace against you
My daughter lay beside you on the hospital cot
trying to lend you her breath, and the push of her heart
trying to wind her soul tight around yours
so you couldn’t leave
but you said “I’m sorry”
and then you died
Well . . . apology not accepted!
you should have been more careful
you should have gotten more sleep
you should have stopped drinking
you should have watched your diet
you should have paced yourself
you should have not worked so hard
you should have tried harder
you should have hung on longer
And if it isn’t your own damn fault
then what can I do with this anger?
What should I do with this anger?
but
Dave, my friend
(my friend)
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May you be a week in heaven before the Devil knows you’re dead!
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