My uncle's brain
weighs fifteen-hundred
grams
the pathologist
says.
Fifteen-hundred
grams of childhood laughter,
of being a baby brother,
grams of childhood laughter,
of being a baby brother,
of other sacred lives,
listened to and
remembered,
grams of prayer and solitude.
Fifteen-hundred
grams kicked around by a polished shoe,
grams kicked around by a polished shoe,
before being dropped into a
silver tray
and weighed.
Fifteen-hundred
grams on the only scales of justice,
grams on the only scales of justice,
either he, or
we,
Powerful and eloquent. What devastation.
ReplyDeleteFuck me it hurts; yet another crucifixion by a failed business, non taxable individual. Thankfully the power of God's Love prevails as evidenced by the number of people that keep him, through pictures in their homes and all those who were blessed to share his breath.
ReplyDelete