Today's poem is by Michelle Bitting

Memorial
       

Now they're figuring out my brother's service.
It's a question of strict liturgy.

His love for Steely Dan another kind of liturgy.
Under the clergyman's collar one detects a faint rash.

A funeral playlist posted on Facebook augurs acting rash.
My mother took his model airplanes to the thrift shop after.

But who wants a broken anything after
Its tail's been clipped, its body gashed and blown

Windowless? A toy or gun or throat's trumpet blown.
I wish it were different.

Wings of rope, liquor, bullets—all the different
Flight plans a heart charts behind your back.

Once a thing's done there's no turning back.
Now they're figuring out my brother's service.

Copyright © 2025 Michelle Bitting All rights reserved
from The National Poetry Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission