Tender are the Dead

By Claire Jean Kim

                 

You say my mother is up there

watching over me.

 

Bless you for thinking this. Really.

 

But bear with me

while I break this down.

 

The first part -- "up there" --

may or may not pertain,

in my mother’s case,

and the "watching over me" part --

yeah, that’s no less hard.

 

Is it possible

she’s warming up

to motherhood now?

Do the dead pick up

 

new hobbies?

I don’t think it’s giving

too much away

to say

 

I think my mom is

in a bar somewhere,

 

singing karaoke and sipping saké,

sitting too close

to some married man,

 

because she can,

and when I die,

when someone leans over

and whispers

 

"Your daughter’s arrived,"

she’ll look up and say,

without breaking

stride,

 

"And you’re telling me why?"

 

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