[Poetry | Issue 10]

andrew garvin

incantation

In the aftermath there was so much crying.
My cousins sought god then spat at each other
for not finding Dad. In Judaism we sing
so often it drowns out mistakes
in the Torah. Little Brother couldn’t stop
trying everything he could think of
to die. And for her sake, Mom craved benediction
and an indictment for manslaughter. The trial
lasted eight days and nights (and we won
against the person who killed Dad).
Bible stories echoed on grieving tongues
outside the room where my parents once slept.
I kept an emery board by the toilet to grind
away sadness. I ran the shower for more
than twenty minutes undisturbed. Humidity
in the mirror shrouded and muffled
my inaudible prayers. Not like our family
had been any more holy before his death.
A whole year of scripture passed and we still
couldn’t make the miracle. Mom would leave
me alone in the house and I couldn’t know
what to do in such absence, and I’d weep
until her minivan pulled up our driveway.
How could we leave room for Kaddish?
Morning would come and in my misery
I’d imagine cracking eggs against the refrigerator
to grab the attention of the god
Dad sometimes believed in, as if any father
could calm a child in mourning. I learned
to break bread and drink wine for myself
beyond what might be suggested by god
or my doctor. I stopped debating the existence
of god and buried myself in Men’s Fitness
with all the men I could ever desire.
We look to god for resolutions
and that isn’t and hasn’t ever been
what I’ve needed. At an eastern orthodox wedding
the priest says we must speak in a voice
that commands—how I imagine Dad or god would—
like the drone of an organ in an empty sanctuary.

 __________

About the author

Andrew Garvin (He/Him/His) is a gay poet. His work has been featured with the Guggenheim Museum in New York, Sonora Review (forthcoming), pioneertown, Cola Literary Review, and more. He received his MFA in poetry from Virginia Commonwealth University, Master’s of Social Work from Columbia University in New York, and BA from the University of Southern California. He lives in San Francisco.