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August 4, 2017 | Poetry

Holiday Hours

BJ Soloy

Holiday Hours photo

Sometimes the resurrection just takes it out of you

& there’s so much left to add to the spin cycle.

For instance, Roger Moore dies as speculation grows

as to who’s the next reincarnated Bond. The president

lands to a reception line & it’s all already campaigning

again always. The president lands & I already took a shit

this morning. Back in the domestic sphere, cracks in the window

join to grow a hole in the window until there’s no window

& only a hole in the wall. Then a business student shows up,

asks your name, & uses it 4-5 times per conversation serving.

Then Chris Cornell dies & Blind Melon is currently playing

in every shopping center in America. Comes a time

I feel anxious (preoccupied). Comes a time secure, fearful

(avoidant), & occasionally dismissed (avoidant).

Luckily, godweb.org has an article on post-Easter sadness

called “The Morning After.” If you read it

within 24 -48 hours after internment,

it usually keeps the naked body out of the light.

 

image: Tara Wray


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