Jason Irwin: Ouija Board

My cousin asked the usual questions—

boys and marriage; were there any more toys 

under the Christmas tree?

.

I asked When? And How?

I was thirteen. My cousin, twelve.

.

It said I would be 41.

The same age my mother was that Christmas.

Elvis was 42 when he died. Jesus, 33.

.

After that I waited, counting down the days

and weeks. The years.

.

Whenever we played war

I was always the soldier who got killed, the one who died

a heroic death. Sometimes

.

I lay on the couch with a towel over my face

and instructed my cousin to pretend it was my funeral.

.

It would be on a Tuesday. 

Would it hurt? Would there be blood?

The night before that fated day I dream

.

I’m standing before the Oracle at Delphi; 

that my cousin and I are trapped on a frozen lake. 

.

When the ice begins to crack, my cousin slides away .

from me, trying to collect the walnuts that spill out 

of the bag she is carrying.

.

“Don’t be obstinate!” she calls to the nuts

that lie there playing dead, looking like turds.

.

In the morning I watch the sun pass through the clouds. 

After my third cup of coffee I pour another

and move to a chair near the window.

.

Outside a boy is standing in the street jumping up and down

on each crack in the pavement, fearless.

---

From A Blister of Stars. Copyright 2016 Jason Irwin. Published by Low Ghost Press.