JUSTICE OF THE PIECE
by Bryan Borland
I read about straight boys marrying
like I read the obituaries,
morbid curiosity
with a sense of pity.
This one died of cancer,
that one got her pregnant,
this one went peacefully in his sleep,
that one signed away his life
on euphoric leave from Iraq.
Silly boy,
you always love them like that at first,
you always want to fuck their brains out
after you dodge bullets
and step off the plane on American soil.
You’ll go back to your war
but I promise her lips aren’t as soft
as those of us who moisturize.
I can see a tombstone
that marks your body
of judgment and youth,
and a smudged print on granite
of a single goodbye kiss.
Another statistic
either way it goes.
© Bryan Borland
*growl* I’m back.
‘I read about straight boys marrying
like I read the obituaries,
morbid curiosity
with a sense of pity.’
Loved how that framed my reading of the rest of the poem. Your poetry is notoriously good at making me smile, then read it again, I make me feel somewhat creepy for smiling, then read it again, and I still can’t keep from smiling.
I supposed that what’s called dark humor, or maybe it’s just me being weird. Either way, I’m tempted to start calling you the Dark Lord.
I just edited so check it out again. I’ll probably keep editing.
OMG what a compliment, too. That’s very Voldermort-like.
I’ll keep checking in.
I like mine with a little venum. This is one of your short, direct poems that POUND, POUND, POUND at the readers’ door. Me likes.
Let me hear you.
A guy one year behind me in high school was killed in Iraq not so long ago at age 21. He had gotten married the year before, and was due to end his tour in two days. Thinking about this kind of thing is always surreal.
Oh yeah. Most of the men and woman I know who are “over there” are younger classmates and little brothers and sisters of people I graduated with. Very surreal.
When we’re old, will you begin reading the obituaries, too?
I actually look at the anniversaries that feature the pictures of the happy couple on their wedding day years ago. I look at them and wonder if the groom hid a secret life during those years? Either way, your poem makes me happy to live the life that I have, and to not be living the life that I would have had to hide.
You’re like, “Damn, don’t I know that groom?” I bet you’d recognize him better if the photo was below the waist.
good one bryan. only thing i’d mention is probably doing something a little bit different with the title. you use obit and mention the listings of weddings in the paper. maybe just something more about the newspaper. maybe like the section of the paper they are in hm….