Friday, August 13, 2010

An Un-Natural History of the Dead

"Unlike all other forms of lutte or combat the conditions are that the winner shall take nothing; neither his ease, nor his pleasure, nor any notions of glory; nor, if he win far enough, shall there be any reward within himself." Hemingway
I. Ghost Stories
It starts, as all these stories start...

someone must die
by trauma,
by murder,
by bloody accident,
bleeding out onto asphalt
on a rainy night
blood tinging to pink
and fading away.

Someone must die
for the story
to start,

leaving something,
any old thing,
unresolved.

Our hero,
and he's always a he,
must face the dead,
and she's always a she,
and make his best effort
to resolve it,
whatever the unnamed
McGuffin was.

What he gets in return
is a broken romance
and the eternal gratitude
of a ghost

moving toward
Heaven, Hell,
the bright light
and all other points past caring
about gratitude towards the living,

and he standing hollowed
before a grave
comprehending a loss
many years past

and a memento mori,
all too fresh.

That's the way
this kind of story works,
leaving out everything,
everything else unstated,
in the effort to tell
the un-natural history of the dead.

II. The Vanishing
You heard the story;

boy in a car,
girl on the side of the road
rain swept,

a pretty little drowned rat
in a prom dress.

It wasn't
your best friend's cousin,
or your
Dad's boss' son.

I don't know
those people.
Tell them to live
their own lives.

Why I stopped,
I'm just...
I stop, okay...

I stop,
it's who I am.

And the car was warm,
dry
and she just wanted
a ride home.

Simple.

Not even
that far
out of my way,
I said.

Okay,
a few miles.
20 minutes,
half an hour
who knows.

And she looked
cold and frail and hopeful,
like Ophelia just out of the River,
like she was back from the deluge
and I wanted...

Okay, this part is always confused
because...

I just wanted.

and so, she got in.
And almost there,
poof.

And I find out
she's been dead for 20 years.

Forget the signs and wonders,
she always vanishes.

Happens to me
all the time.

E.

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