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.


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