{"id":248,"date":"2022-09-20T10:50:21","date_gmt":"2022-09-20T14:50:21","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pensivejournal.com\/?p=248"},"modified":"2022-09-20T10:50:21","modified_gmt":"2022-09-20T14:50:21","slug":"choosing-my-afterlife","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pensivejournal.com\/poetry\/choosing-my-afterlife\/","title":{"rendered":"Choosing My Afterlife"},"content":{"rendered":"
After my cardiac arrest, That\u2019s something, but I\u2019m still not sure what. In it, I ask a dodo bird for forgiveness I relish seeing aurochs and great auks In my afterlife, I finally know Cruelty will at last be seen for what it is\u2014 In my afterlife, all the dead in me my grandfather pouring melted lead and my parents, of course, still bickering After my cardiac arrest, the cardiologist said, you\u2019re lucky, you were dead for a few minutes. That\u2019s something, but I\u2019m still not sure what. Being dead was a blank, which, lately, I\u2019ve taken as an invitation to fill in my afterlife. In it, I ask a dodo bird for forgiveness and watch that river of…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":15,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"issue":[7],"coauthors":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nthe cardiologist said, you\u2019re lucky,<\/em>
\nyou were dead for a few minutes.<\/em><\/p>\n
\nBeing dead was a blank,
\nwhich, lately, I\u2019ve taken as an invitation
\nto fill in my afterlife.<\/p>\n
\nand watch that river of passenger pigeons
\nAudubon watched for days.<\/p>\n
\nand, oh, so many plants and tree leaves
\nI\u2019ve seen only as fossils in museums.
\nAnd just one glance
\nat the Lord God Bird is paradise.<\/p>\n
\ncontrol has nothing to do with me.
\nAnd everyone\u2019s \u201cI\u201d is lower case,
\nfully human, as we never could be
\nwhen we were alive,
\nalways shoving love out where it most belonged.<\/p>\n
\na choice we make when no understands
\nwho anyone else really is.<\/p>\n
\nare waiting for my postponed arrival.
\nI so much want to have them
\nall around me\u2014<\/p>\n
\ninto sinker forms for spring fishing,
\nmy aunt and grandmother clicking away
\nat one of those crochet pieces
\nI find in all the drawers of my parents\u2019 house,<\/p>\n
\nover the smallest things,
\nand keeping each other alive.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"