44. “Death of a Youth Leader”

A poem from AS WELL AS CAN BE EXPECTED: Selected poems, including Things need not be this way, by Richard L. Rose

Death of a Youth Leader

If you have the map to heaven,
skip art’s other steps.
In fact, rise aloft;
go sing with a sphere.

But if you’re still here,
you may want to learn
to sing parlando,
try basse danse,
or sketch your way
out of ignorance.

Of course, none of this was clear
to fifteen-year-olds
watching David peep
at the girl next door.

The arts didn’t come into it
except maybe as vehicles
for the route to heaven —
maybe like a Toronado
with rocket-jets — but Kings
had no back seat,

only the subtlety of power
to slip a steak knife
under the fifth rib
during the crowd scene.

All the Sorries of the outcome,
like those after the prom,
didn’t matter. Although
he got the girl,
he was the man
caught lusting Sunday nights,

as we sweated through his scrapes
and bedroom scenes, and other romps
of the chosen people.
Who could sleep after that?

If, like our group leader,
you had the map to heaven,
apparently, you could drop off
like a hooded hawk,
awaken, leap back
to the dogfight overhead,
firing proof-texts left and right.

But after landing, we’ve found that maps
notwithstanding,
should you skip your own true steps
they nonetheless remain your only steps.

Here’s the deal (Yes, there’s a deal — although no coins or bitcoins are involved): If you are reading these poems, we are communicating and maybe even communing. Except I don’t know about it as long as you keep your peace. Please make a response, even if it’s only “Duly noted.”