MY PARENTS CONSIDER WHAT THEY'LL DO WITH THEIR REMAINS
by OTTAVIA PALUCH (Canada)
Issue 2.2 August 2020
But not as quickly as water
on a chalkboard as it’s getting
washed. There is so much to erode.
All this unnecessary dust that hangs
in the balance for too long. Think
of weightlessness. Think of almost
being invisible. Think of each other.
Neither of you want to be buried.
Burning is better. They call it
cremation. The disposal, the
neglect of the physical. Because
nothing will matter after it occurs.
We’re just ash and dirt.
Whatever wasn’t wished upon a star.
My mother has a suggestion
for a later chapter of her husband’s
autobiography. The epilogue.
She plans on keeping his remnants
in a diamond ring, a means of
bringing him along wherever she
goes. But this is my father’s
leitmotif. He says to dump
what’s left of him onto the 401.
Strangers will drive pass him
forgetting the existence of death
as the fragments of his bones
rattle. Dad says to play some
Rush on the drive there.
To inscribe 2112 on the driveway
of our house, knowing that
no one will know of its existence
or significance but us. God,
I love him. Keep him here forever.
I know that's impossible but for so long
I thought death was, too.
There is little I could want more
than to fill in the blanks of the
crossword puzzle, the lines
on his face.
Ottavia Paluch, 16, is a disabled high school student who lives in Ontario, Canada. A 2018 Gigantic Sequins Teen Sequin, she is an alum of the Adroit Summer Mentorship and Flypaper Flight School programs, and her work is published in many literary journals. She is thankful that My Chemical Romance reunited.