Fear

I am not afraid
of what lurks in the darkness
of what whispers in the silence
or of that thing that steals people away in their sleep

I am afraid
of what’s in the mirror
of how I make my decisions
of what I am capable of

Watching Finding Nemo

I'm stumbling
I'm tumbling
I'm running out of hope
I'm falling
Further from the light
No right of way for me
In this great big sea
But then I stop

And say

Just keep swimming
Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming

Just keep swimming
Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming

And it'll all be okay

Just keep swimming

Eulogy

Dear Grandma,

What is Heaven like?

Is it all card games and crosswords?
Are you surrounded by giraffes and Tweety Birds, teddy bears and stuffed dogs?
Does Notre Dame always win?

In Heaven,
Does everyone smile with their own teeth?
Walk with their own two legs?
Are your hands still cold?
Is your coffee still too hot?
Are the candies still sugarless?

Or is Heaven something else?

Is Heaven watching your children grow?
Is Heaven watching your grandchildren grow?

Do you get to relive the best moments of your life?

Maybe Jim picks you a dandilion every day, wrapping it in aluminum foil.
Maybe you have to put an ice cube on my burning index finger after trying again in vein to teach me how to light a match.
Which reminds me: could you show me one more time the right way to swirl the spaghetti around the fork with a spoon? I was having some trouble the other day with some angel hair pasta. It kept slipping through the tines.

You would be the expert on angel hair now.

I know that when I get to Heaven, and I get to relive the best moments of my life,

I’ll be
Playing Kings in the Corner at the nursing home
Watching Hawaii 5-O and Ironsides after school
And playing with a large collection of small toy airplanes on your living room floor
All with you.

And I’ll have you tell me once more about the time you went to the movies on a first date and saw Pinocchio. I really like that story.

I love you, and I’ll miss you.

Your Favorite Grandson,
Nathan

Your Voice

Your voice
Is separate
From the collection of voices

Midnight Idea

I
Had an idea tonight
I didn't want to lose it
I held onto it
Tight
With two hands
My fingernails dug into it
I pierced its skin
And it bled
All the way down my arms

Then
It violently shook
Wrestling itself free
Of me