day of the dead

drinking a whiskey
with my dead
listening to echoes
in my head
light a candle
pour the drink
leave the music on
it’s too quiet to think

for clear reasons, i rarely rhyme my verse. but this one just kind of happened that way.

remember that time i spent the summer living on the land of a member of the ho-chunk nation? a man named reykunami? he spent most of the summer complaining to me about my friend whom he was dating on & off. their on & off again dating cycle ended two days after i wrote this art journal page. she texted me to tell me he had taken her out for margaritas to celebrate the day of the dead. so i wrote this verse. two days later she texted me to tell me he had died. he just laid down on his couch on a warm november day and never woke up again.
the ho-chunks call this “walking on.”
reykunami walked on.
i have conflicted feelings. he was a bit of a son of a bitch & reminded me a lot of dusty in his manipulations…but he had a good heart & did a lot for the rights of nature… and he led such a colorful life!
next year i will make sure to share my whiskey with him.

i’ve already cried over you

so my mom died in january
& i didn’t find out until march
& now her funeral is scheduled for next week.
though i vowed not to go to her funeral should she die, i am going. me, the minions, & the dad are trekking down to texas.

this “poem” is a string of things said between my mom & me. not really a conversation. i’m not sure we ever actually had a conversation.

my mother

almost one year exactly
after the death of my father
i found out
about the death of my mother
though she had been dead
almost
two months…
now i am
an overgrown
orphan.

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