Drawing by Judith Wolfe
J D Heskin
Poem
DEAD MAN TALKING
Strange. The fuss, I mean.
When I was alive, no one noticed me.
Now I am dead and the center of attention.
All and all, it was not a bad death.
Clean and fast. And spectacular to those
who watched as I topped the arch
of Old River Bridge and did a swan dive
into the cold waters I find myself in now.
That was three days ago. Five search boats
with twenty men and a rescue helicopter
cruising overhead haven't found me yet.
But they'll keep looking until they do.
Damned if I ever understood the living.