February 28, 2018

miss more than you

One day in the not so distant future,
on a day that feels normal to most people,
filled with getting the kids ready for school,
and performing their menial tasks
and/or more important jobs,
like saving lives, or doing someones taxes, or educating children-
one of your friends will open Facebook
and see that another friend of yours,
someone closer to you
with more vivid memories
and shared experiences,
with maybe even something that resembles love
will have alerted the world that you have passed.

This news will pass through timezones,
and be represented by a faded grainy photo of you-
perhaps from high school graduation,
or some other distant event when you were young
and happy and alive.

Different people on Facebook
will react in different ways.
Your friend’s post,
the one announcing your death,
will garner a batch of sad emojis,
as people scroll through their feed-
The announcement of your death
with accompanying photo will be
just another news bit they will process
for a few seconds,
before they change their sadness
to joy while watching a kitten video
or to rage as they contemplate
the death of democracy
or ponder the news about the EPA
choosing not to protect children from poison.

A few people on their feed,
might work hard to remember any times they spent with you,
conjuring memories from the shrinking spaces of their minds.

Others will leave comments about how great you were.
How you were so kind and loved.
People that barely knew you might jump on
and revel in the shared grief.
Some of your real friends might remember
that these emotional interlopers
were actually pretty big assholes toward you,
but they will like the comments
because this is the time to grieve
and not to hold grudges or
lingering vendettas.

By lunch time,
most people will have forgotten about you
and the announcement of your death.
They will have to get home and make dinner,
and go over their kid’s homework.

If you’re lucky they might think of you
one last time through the fog of fatigue
and feel obliged to honour your life,
or the absurdity of our modern age,
in the form of a poem,
before they get ready to go have a drink and some dinner
with a friend who will move away soon,
who they will most likely miss more than you.

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