About Meghan

I'm real.

May 17th, 2014

Then I see all my friends
standing around a porch.
There’s a band on the porch
playing music for everyone.
“Hello, Meghan,” the band says
to me.

Then on another porch
a man is singing
with his heart out
and playing guitar.
Eight years ago
we sat together
in a bar in Cambridge
I interviewed him
for a music magazine.
I used to be a writer.
He used to be a painter.
I wonder if he still paints
too?

(In nine hours
a bone in left index finger
will be broken
in a door hinge.
But that hasn’t happened yet.)

It is late afternoon
afternoon, afternoon.
And there is my other friend
on a porch with a mandolin.
My friend in the street
(across from the hospital I will
be in in eight hours)
points out the hole in the
mandolin is a unique shape.
Usually they aren’t shaped like
that.

So many things
that have already happened
and will never happen again.

Ghostbusters Ghazal

images (2)
From mortal wake to mortal wane, I ain’t afraid of no ghosts
Until I face my own demise, I ain’t afraid of no ghosts

The world above the underworld is pleasant; but at most
We yell our battle cries: We ain’t afraid of no ghosts

Spirits birthed from the dead, the decaying and morose
A prediction of my own demise but I ain’t afraid of no ghosts

Ghostbusters are strong, resilient our empathy remote
We send them back to Hell because we aren’t afraid of ghosts

A New York City Morning began with coffee and toast
My ex-lover turned into a spirit had succumbed to a ghost

She had been my last thought while dying; my death came quick and close
The last of my will, our battle cry: I ain’t afraid of no ghost.