His Kindness Flowed Like Water - His Love Flowed Like Wine

Dedicated to Christopher Van Pelt (1974 – 2021)

With my ax, I split a piece of wood – and find him there…

I lift up a stone and find him there also

At the mall, and at the movie theatre, and at every social event –

he’s there – he’s not, but he is –

I hold his forever invitation tightly in my hand,

as my hands noticeably tremble with social panic and grief

He wouldn’t want me to be sad – I know that,

but I don’t know how to fucking stop

It was so funny! Last night, all our friends and I (and Thomas was there!) got together for movie night on the tele at Mark’s – and it was like we were all 19 and stupid and careless all over again. We talked over the movies, laughed all night, and were drunk as fuck at the end – you would have totally…

“Chris (!)…Chris (!)…”, I shout… (as I frantically look around me)

- and then pause

- and then remember (again)

“why aren’t you here, my friend?”

[I drop my memory of last night - it smashes on the ground

- because it no longer means anything to me]

not without him

“My friend, I know you wouldn’t want me to be sad – I truly believe this -

but I don’t know how to fucking stop”

…still, I listen for your voice in the wind –

expecting to hear it

…still, I look for you when I wake in the morning –

expecting to see you

You were my light – and you shined brightly (!) –

Above all others –

Above all others –

You were my light – and you shined above all others

It’s Halloween season– my favorite time of year –

the haunted houses and the ghost tours –

- the colorful Autumn leaves, as they crunch beneath our feet -

and our annual trip to the craft store to buy spooky decorations –

and our apartment filled with spiders, and witches, and carved jack-o-lanterns -

and (for the party) a plastic, black cauldron smoking with dry ice for the alcohol punch –

and the elaborate and inappropriate costumes

– and the music too loud –

and the scary movies and the laughter –

it all made me smile

[memories] I exhale them, painfully…

[“you died before me –

that wasn’t supposed to happen (!) –

I had not planned for that to happen…

and I hate it, I fucking hate it (!)” –

…I reach for ice cubes to hold in my hands to ground my thoughts]

My friend,

With my ax, I split a piece of wood – and find you there…

I lift up a stone and find you there also

Photo: Jimmy Broccoli with Little Doggie.