by Alexis Rhone Fancher
No, he did not look natural in his coffin.
He is not in a better place.
Don’t compare your pain to mine. Your dog
getting hit by a truck is not the same.
You really don’t know how I feel.
Don’t say you’re devastated.
Does it always have to be about you?
Don’t ask me about Fentanyl.
Don’t tell me not to dwell.
Don’t minimize my loss.
My boy is not better off dead.
For once, let’s say it like it is:
He did not pass away.
There is no plan.
Don’t say he is at peace.
Silence is good. A hug.
Tell me you have no words.
Or tell me stories of that summer
he rode the bulls in Ogden,
all that life tightly in his grip.
* * * * *
"Overdose" was first published in THE DEAD KID POEMS (KYSO Flash press, 2019)
L.A poet Alexis Rhone Fancher is published in Best American Poetry, Rattle, Poetry East,
Hobart, VerseDaily, American Journal of Poetry, Duende, Plume, Diode, Wide Awake:
Poets of Los Angeles, and elsewhere. She’s the author of five published poetry collections, most
recently, Junkie Wife (Moon Tide Press, 2018), and The Dead Kid Poems (KYSO Flash
Press, 2019). EROTIC: New & Selected, publishes in 2020 from New York Quarterly. Her
photographs are published worldwide, including River Styx, and the covers of Pithead Chapel,
Heyday, and Witness. A multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, Alexis is poetryeditor of Cultural Weekly. www.alexisrhonefancher.com