I'll Come Back as a Ghost in a Hat
I’m not sure why the hat.
Ghosts and hats
both seem sufficiently
I should also defend wanting
to be a ghost, shouldn’t I,
seeing as coming back is in and of itself
I understood the world mostly through
others. Like with atlases. Like with
men I loved. Bulgarians from Arkansas.
Wisconsinites from Manitoba.
If you were like me, you loved
you couldn’t love.
Let’s please come back
as ghosts in business jackets
Tiny, purple hats.
Rosemary sprigs in our lapels
and cordials, we could wander
staircases of some Sophia complex
we never knew in Portland.
Wobbling out from unlit corners
like pale catfish, we’ll
come to the water’s surface only
to eat or beg to.
Silly ghosts, a Bulgarian
elder will pause to sometimes
ask, why come back at all, if what you were
embarrassed you so?
(The Hong Kong Review, Vol. I, No. 3)