Funeral Lunch by Thom Swiss
Ringing a water-glass bell at lunch,
Mike led an Irish farewell
Prayer; Sarah, my sister, sat quietly
Pinned between a distant cousin
And alcoholic Aunt Dot (so out
Of it, she couldn’t get their dead
Son’s name right). The police think
Brendan fell on the platform,
Dropping his keys on the tracks.
Those who knew him know otherwise.
__________________________________
Thom Swiss has published two volumes of poems (Measure, U Alabama; Rough Cut, U Illinois) and many volumes of criticism, including recent volumes on new media poetry and poetics (MIT Press) and Bob Dylan (U Minnesota Press). His poems have been published in Ploughshares, Iowa Review, American Scholar, New England Review, Agni, Postmodern Culture, and so on. He is Professor of Culture and Teaching at the University of Minnesota.
Ringing a water-glass bell at lunch,
Mike led an Irish farewell
Prayer; Sarah, my sister, sat quietly
Pinned between a distant cousin
And alcoholic Aunt Dot (so out
Of it, she couldn’t get their dead
Son’s name right). The police think
Brendan fell on the platform,
Dropping his keys on the tracks.
Those who knew him know otherwise.
__________________________________
Thom Swiss has published two volumes of poems (Measure, U Alabama; Rough Cut, U Illinois) and many volumes of criticism, including recent volumes on new media poetry and poetics (MIT Press) and Bob Dylan (U Minnesota Press). His poems have been published in Ploughshares, Iowa Review, American Scholar, New England Review, Agni, Postmodern Culture, and so on. He is Professor of Culture and Teaching at the University of Minnesota.