Author Information
At the End of Old Post Road
When Kenny’s mom
got the letter
that
he was killed in Vietnam
She hung herself from the hook
over
the upper barn door
where the old cast iron pulley
used to hang
My uncle Joe found her
two days
after Easter Sunday
in 1968
She wasn’t allowed
to be buried
behind the church at Saint Mary’s
next to her son
and husband
My grandmother always
said,
Lyndon Johnson
was a bastard
And so was that fucking priest
My uncle John told me that story
whenever we past
the old abandoned house
at the end
of Old Post Road
~/~
This spare and expertly
This spare and expertly constructed social commentary hit me hard. I'm still haunted by the unyielding self-righteousness of the church at a time when a family desperately needed compassion, and how that outrage effected a new generation.
I'm rarely impacted this much by a poem. I love the blunt eloquence and concise power of it. First rate work. Perfection.
but so it is
The last place you’d expect judgement, but so it is.