Wish Lists for the Dead

You know there's these online wish-lists
for people about to get married.
Toaster (1). Champagne glasses (12).
That sort of thing. A lot of pre-newlyweds
just want cash. Why did I just write "just"?

Anyway, I think there should be wish-lists
for people who've just died. Some things
with far more granularity than a will
or a trust or a box of photos. Bouquet
for Giselle (1). Fuck-you to cousin
Rexx (3). Trees planted (1,345,238).
Bourbon-and-branch-water for
Dolores (3). Kind word (1).


hans ostrom 2016

Message From Dolores

Someone named Dolores

called for you today. 

She lives in the 1940s,

asks that you visit her there.

Seems she has details

of history to share—wool

skirts, unfiltered cigarettes,

a porter on a Pullman car

who saw too much, a neighbor

who never came back

from Tule Lake.  She wants

to play records for you—

78 RPM, thick as UFOs.

She wants you to understand

what it was like for her, what

she had, chose, and refused

to do. She understands how

busy you are.  Still she’d

like to see you.  Open

one of those boxes in storage,

find a photo of or words from

Dolores.  Walk through the

page.  Dolores will be waiting,

holding a Chesterfield just so,

ready to tell you about women

and men back then.  Don’t

worry.  She can’t come back

but you can.  You have a pass

that lets you go between now

and then.  The price of the pass

is just to think about the past.

That’s all.  That’s really all

there is to it.  Ask Dolores.

--Hans Ostrom, copyright 2012