Phillip MATTHEW ROBERTS
RESURRECTION ON A FRIDAY EVENING:
brief outline for an unwritten
novella
transposing the afterlife into
existentialist
terminology buttressed by a
single allusion
A paltry sum of lines written
in pale rooms succumbed by
memories,
many of them I'm certain
are not my own--
unconventional hazards known
well among the mentally ill.
Hallucinations intricate as the
past
identical to what I recall.
Travel as a ghost proximal
to other people's precarious existence,
smothered by their lonesomeness;
reminders of my own failures
as they mumble reminiscences,
whispering doubts to the shadows
because darkness always listens.
Occasionally they feel my
ethereal presence
bumping into me with uncertain
expressions
contorting their normally blithe
faces--
Horatio's wonderment at Hamlet
who elucidates the subtleties of
heaven
and earth: a dutiful and astute
thinker
surmising that one should not be
surprised
when their dead father reappears
and demands revenge
most horrid.
The long solitary adventure
invariably forgotten,
unsuitable for a meager
sum of delinquent phrases.
Returning to my modest
subterranean residence,
a furnished dwelling several odd
feet under
observing as their imaginary
lives dwindle
enveloped by reality's hard
empiricism.
Phillip Matthew Roberts
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