Poetry Report: Funeral for a Bomber
“Keep the wet scar of my grave open”
As they bury the bomber, I think about reconciliation. It doesn’t seem that any amount of anger will solve this now. How can you be angry at nothing? Only love and the hard work of forgiveness can heal the immensity of life gone completely wrong.
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The Murderer’s Final Remarks
I am dead.
So invite the lovers and haters equally.
Let a riot ensue.
Watch them rip me from my casket.
Let them have a tug-o-war
until my carcass snaps, spraying
my sad shrapnel
over the members
of the Westboro Baptist Church.
Let the dogs have the scraps.
Keep the wet scar of my grave open
for the rain to smear away.
Let the haters scream over
the heads of the sobbing.
It doesn’t matter.
I am nothing now
and it’s still too much.
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Email the poet at poetryreport@gmail.com