Written by Hanna Lee on June 10, 1990
Arranged by Chuck Young on January 29, 2013
Published in Issue 006
bury me, bones. bare in the bible. black predawn holographic holiness.
“reality as retrospective,” my dad once told us. “when i die just throw my body.”
in the dumpster. with the rest of the week’s garbage. or tie me to a tree.
“and let the vultures feed feverishly on my flesh.”
when you die, you are. dead, there is nothing else. no, you will not.
“miss anything, anyone.”
just like the blind, don’t miss the sun. having never seen. solar shine and the deaf.
“do not desire sonatas, symphonies.”
maybe so, dad. but i really know. nothing, no nothing can be.
“known, it just cannot be retained.”
like a bird in a cage. wings unclipped. just waiting.
“for an ajar door to swoon sunnyside, up sunbound, synchronized.”
orbiting planetary pirouettes. galaxies galore. xerox copy universes.
“bodies don’t matter here.”