why am i drawn to obituaries drawn like water spiraling down  a dirty drain to a polluted pool dragged down  to someone’s last dreadful deadly day death notices attract me as they never did before though they leave unanswered questions I’d most like to ask what their passions were what broke their hearts whether they thought it worth being in this short go-around yet i’m enticed  any death will do famous infamous ordinary mundane  but deaths  of friends I haven’t seen in years seduce me most like a Siren song: a long-forgotten so long forgotten grammar school buddy heart stopped suddenly back in the old hometown a friend from grad school most brilliant of them all such promise too bad few pubs fizzled long-forgotten so long  forgotten the flower of a girl who dumped me devastated me in high school romeo’s passion troilous’ double sorrow nothing compared to mine no broken heart like a first-time broken
heart    she’s gone too she’s gone too…
my college debate partner loved him as much as a poor straight guy could all these old friends slipped from mind slipped til now why didn’t i reach out
        too late too late….
don’t forget don’t forget the couple we met in our waning years close as if we’d known them from birth both gone gone in a single week one in a car crash one of heartbreak six days later

why am I drawn to the obituaries? because tomorrow I’ll be 87 wondering what my obit
will say

DB: born 1937, died 20??,
married three times, three kids,
one hasn’t spoken to him for 15 years,
profession: philosophy professor, ended his life
a third-rate poet…that’s it…the end

period   punkt   fini

these obituaries are a drumbeat of sorrow,
a relentless drumbeat of sorrow