Death Barged In

Today I heard a poem that I just have to share with all of you. This was written by Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno. I heard her read it on NPR during an interview. She recently published a book of poems about the murder of her daughter 6 years ago. Read more about her book here. I think I'll go out and buy it.

Death Barged In

In his Russian greatcoat
slamming open the door
with an unpardonable bang,
and he has been here ever since.
He changes everything,
rearranges the furniture,
his hand hovers
by the phone;
he will answer now, he says;
he will be the answer.
Tonight he sits down to dinner
at the head of the table
as we eat, mute;
later, he climbs into bed
between us.

Even as I sit here,
he stands behind me
clamping two
colossal hands on my shoulders
and bends down
and whispers to my neck,
From now on,
you write about me.

For me this poem spoke to me in the same way that An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination did. All I can think afterwards is yes.