Photography © Luis Lázaro Tijerina

 

Camelot

Someday you too will be
A favorite flower, hand me down recipe
Unlikely story told through telephone

I hope you know when you’re alive the love that will come
Screaming out of mouths you wouldn’t believe
That the weight of negativity doesn’t rob you of the truth
I hope women wail at your wake and bake
And you don’t make the mistake
Of dying thinking that no one likes you

I hope when you go the city has to decide whether and what to
          post on their socials
That there is too much food in the house where they keep your widow
When she is not ready to go home yet
I hope people you barely know burn offerings to you in cities
          you’ve never been
Incense and ink, weed and printer paper wafting up to find you
I hope they find you
Prayers aren’t wasted when they’re sent
To the saints of our own making
Begging only for their remembrance and their peace

I hope you spare a thought for me
Playing mythmaker to my deceased comrades
Fingers bleeding as I crush their memories to diamonds
You would have loved what we made of you

I hope you know Camelot when you are in it
I hope you enjoy your wife while you’re filming her for the
          posthumous montage
Not knowing it’s her movie
That she’ll be the one watching flash cuts
Sundrenched sheets with your face between
I hope you breathe
Suck in every grain of pollen and skunk
I hope you taste every sandwich that’s a better hero than you
Tomato and mayo mushing out the edges
Getting caught in your untamed facial hair

I hope you find yourself in the endless sea
As you examine the infinite possibilities
Of being without your familiar carapice
I hope there’s bikes in the afterlife
And that when yours gets stolen
You retrieve it with no arrests or fascist flash mobs
I hope the clouds I’ve been seeing are you and my
          dead boyfriend
Splitting physics defying blunts
Taking heroic bong hits
Collapsing in heavenly giggle fits

I hope you spare a thought for me
Playing matchmaker to my deceased comrades
Wishing I’d made introductions while they were corporeal
You would have loved each others company
You would have loved
You were loved

 

Anna Geoffroy is a Massachusetts-based poet, propagandist and pope (non-exclusive). She is the co-host of the live-to-tape Contro-Verse open mic in Malden and editor of the Holy Nonsense project. Together with fellow Garage Poets Jeff Taylor and Ethan Mackler she has performed at festivals, galleries, coffee shops and porch fests from Manchester to Mansfield. Her work has been featured in the Lines Connecting Lines exhibit at UMA, the Malden Covid Memorial, The Blood Rag, and a street post near you. Check out qgpennyworth.com for more of her art and nonsense.

Luis Lázaro Tijerina was born in Salina, Kansas. Mr. Tijerina has a Master of Art degree in history, concentration being military history and diplomacy. He is a published author of military theory, short stories, essays and poetry. Mr. Tijerina resides in Kansas.