And So I Sit

And so I sit, Deaf to words of how one who should have not died is remembered
And so I sit, Relieved at how empty my mind has become of concerns--- All
And so I sit, ---- Unreal in the absurdity of young 29 dead at 29,
And so I sit: At 29 had 29 really lived? And so I sit, thinking about how this
And so I sit, That which does not make sense, This quiet sadness that says,
“And so I sit,” A sigh, The way one when older sighs in acceptance---
And so I sit, ----These senseless things, like “Ronald James Panis---
And so I sit, ---“Date of Death: January 10 2010”
And so I sit, “Age 29” I remember the last time we talked; He was
And so I sit,…Laughing about what I wrote, read about what I wrote
And so I sit, (He wrote, too…) True, True, he said, But
And so I sit, He didn’t know about the rest. I heckled,
(And so I sit), “Does your mama know that you read Playboy?”
And so I sit: He was a good boy who grew into a good young man---
And so I sit: Young, Ronald was younger and I called him “Batch”
And so I sit: (We were supposed to join a house that bound our bloods to home
And so I sit, But I stayed outside, remaining outsider)
And so I sit, Remembering last time, last year, then, or how he looked when
And so I sit, He was in high school, one of my brother’s friends, still friends---
And so I sit, Now in elementary.
And so I sit, Know how useless it is to say, “It does not make
And so I sit, Sense, death, this death, this, And I sigh, So I sigh, So
And so I sit.
The words are not aligned, in this light, refusing to have the lines of each letter
Stand straight; Even the lines
Refuse acceptance though
They do not cry nor scream.
And so I sit, Grateful that my own brother and sisters--- Mother and Father--- did not have to survive this kind of sitting.
And so I sit.
And so we sit and wait. And I keep my head bowed, feeling this
Sadness. So we sit, remembering a life that now says dead
At 29--- All scattered by years no longer distant in this place: Boys
Again swapping news and jokes.
And so I sit: Ronald was like that.
And so I sit, Looking at the stairs leading away, waiting, no longer that wild child:
And so I sit: Restrained, feeling older, aged by a young man---
And so I sit, Dead at 29: autopsied by speculations of the bereaved.
And so I sit: How does one die asleep?
And so I sit: What else is there to be explained? He has passed, away---
And so I sit, Listening to how we all hope to meet in Heaven, (Not in
Hell) And so I sit: Impenetrable restraint for a grief empath. We joke,
And so I sit, About how bad people live longer and the kind ones die
And so I sit, Sooner and younger, never as old as they should have been
And so I sit, Waiting, wondering about the Why’s of those who cry.
And so I sit--- The light is no light but shadow speaking what is
Silent, And so I sit, Bleeding and sweating from then panicked, not really sleeping, awaking always to see if the asleep are still breathing;)
And so I sit, awake and vigilant, waiting. A laugh: About his porn.
And so I sit: That was what we talked about.
And so I sit, Watching these boys have become men
And so we all sit, Sweating and waiting for the dead to be alive.
And so I sit, Thinking about soaking these clothes when we get home, a bath, from death
And so I sit: Where to go before then and after this: What
(And so I sit), We all want to do to remember the dead, In honor, In love, Of:
Calm and silent, a war inside between remembering a dead face or
an alive one.
And so I sit, Witnessing this young boy across me crying in his corner.
And so I sit, Remembering him this way, so as not to speak empty words,
And so I sit: Futility. It is quiet in the light that is shadow.
And so I sit, Without anyone sitting beside me, I wait just wanting to be
(Silent) And so I sit, filling and filling these losses with words.
And so I sit, Unknowing what to do, exhausted now, now there’s more
And so I sit, (Light) And so I sit, And so I can only sit; Waving quietly
To his brother who found him dead.
And so I sit, Wanting to see, sighing at the age and date of death.
And so I sit: A sigh, peeking into what I cannot see, refuse to
Look at: Grief, unwilling to feel it;
And so I sit: I have been building a wall with each word,
And so I sit: Looking at those who have aged, mirrors who have been aged.
And so I sit, No longer enraged, just saddened and sighs acceptance of what happens.
And so I sit.
And so I sit, Reading what happened, no longer able to stand, holding my heart
And so I sit, The wall falling
And so I sit, I would have fallen
And so I sit,
And so I sit.