Word of The Day Challenge: SMIKER
There are days I think about him
and I wonder how he is doing.
The last time I saw him he was in a blue suit
that had smelled like mothballs so
somebody had sprayed it with a little cologne
and it only made the smell worse.
I took it outside to air it out.
I sat outside on a bench and watched
the Dead Man’s Suit
swaying in the breeze from a hook by the door and I wondered how long this
could take.
In those days we still used Sony Walkmans and I listened
to Abba’s album Waterloo from track to track.
So now I know that if you hang a Dead Man’s Suit to air out
it will take that long to get rid of most of the smell of mothballs and cologne.
When I was done
I dressed the Dead Man in his suit.
I finished getting him ready for his funeral
and when I was done I checked his hair, his hands.
I straightened his tie and then I looked at his mouth.
His lips were setting in a smooth straight line.
It didn’t look right. I walked from side to side and ran my finger under his lip
and I knew what belonged there
a smirk.
Of course I couldn’t let him go into his coffin with a sneer on his lips.
But it belonged there, it really did.
So he went to his funeral, dignified, stern, composed
in his freshly aired suit
and I am sure, not really looking like himself.
