Sitting Shiva

by Howard Camner

 

They say he was in the third day of a chess match
when he made his move, clutched his chest,
and hit the floor like a wet mop
And now we all just sit here
dead-tired, unshaven, well-dressed, and inconvenienced
biding our time with last respects and second thoughts

(He's God's problem now)

To some he was a friend, to others, a lawyer
And now we all just sit here
on low stools, shoeless, devouring the Meal of Consolation
like starving vultures
But there is no consolation
He owed us all in one way or another
spending his life horizontal
And so it is in passing
that he remains true to his image

We force tears, feign sorrow,
and chat about how generous he was
thinking about the money we'll never see
and promises unkept
We cover the mirrors with hypocrisy
so that our concern is not for our appearance
but for the deceased

Assuming a permanent smirk
I want to plant a final kiss on his brow
and feel his pockets
for things he might try to take with him

 

© 2005 Howard Camner

Howard Camner is the author of fifteen books of poetry. His most recent book is Cheating the Sphinx. He represents the United States in the Poet 2000 Sculpted Library, an international exhibition of the works of contemporary poets. He received the first annual Mi-Po Literary Award in 2004.