At the End of Old Post Road


When Kenny’s mom


got the letter




he was killed in Vietnam




She hung herself from the hook




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




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









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patriciajj's picture

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.

Spinoza's picture

but so it is


The last place you’d expect judgement, but so it is.