Sucker punched

Nine words 
    He took me by surprise with a nine word e-mail and four of those  were names

Hi Andrea,
    Bad news.  Dennis Youn committed suicide
                    August

Physically repulsed, 
by the screen, 
by the keyboard, 
I sucked in my breath and 
jumped back 
staring in horror 
which caved 
to disbelief

Dennis
I knew you in Cleveland 
we sat poolside 
you tried to guess girls’ bra sizes 

I put my hand on your knee once 
your skin was flawless 
Oriental smooth 
So unpresumptuous 
even with your PhD in Chemistry 
you were one of us
disgruntled at the injustices of the boss 

You were working class

You married 
and brought your too white 
rich wife to California 

Remember when she found a check 
for $10,000 in her pocket and it was no big deal 
Funny I only remember she was a blonde Italian girl 
-    but white – so damned white

Some of the memories 
Dennis 
make me want to
throw up right now

What went wrong Dennis 
How did you end up so alone in this world? 
I could’ve imagined it of others Dennis 
weaker willed, 
less going for them, 
but you always seemed  . . .
And isn’t that always the surprise?
The least expected 
never suspected 
are always 
the ones

Why has this grabbed me so hard? 
A fist is squeezing my heart and my lungs 
I have known people 
who’ve killed themselves before 
My cousin jumped from the Tappan Zee bridge years ago

But you are the first to commit suicide 
like committing adultery 
it’s a sin in my world 
Although I can’t conceive 
of a God who would punish 
such an already tortured soul

Dennis
how did it get so bad? 
so out of hand? 
How did the scotch tape 
holding your life together 
become so brittle?
If I’d known 
I would’ve bought duct tape 
it’s silver shiny façade would’ve eased you through the days

Damn Dennis 
your life is worth so much more 
than five words 
four if we ignore the “Hi”

Try as I might I cannot remember your wife’s name 
it was more like a business arrangement 
each contributing a portion to the common bills with your “own money left over”

Is that what happened Dennis? 

I’m speaking to the darkness now 
and an image floats 
a dozen bagels devoured 
you must’ve had feet that weighted 10,000 pounds 
or the metabolism of an atomic bomb
because you remained a bean pole

And I remember your wife barely now 
how she clung to you at the Christmas party 
like an insecure child 
her head on your shoulder 
for most of the night

What happened Dennis? 

It’s getting late 
I’m scared of the darkness now 
And Dennis one last thing please 

What happened when you reached the other side?

by Andrea M. Young

Email: Andrea.Young@aaipharma.com