Graves

Both of us had been close
to Joel, and at Joel’s death
my friend had gone to the wake 
and the memorial service
and more recently he had
visited Joel’s grave, there
at the back of the grassy
cemetery among the trees,
“a quiet, gentle place,” he said, 
“befitting Joel.” And I said, 
“What’s the point of going 
to look at graves?” I went
into one of my celebrated
tirades. “People go to look 
at the grave of Keats or Hart 
Crane, they go traveling just to 
do it, what a waste of time. 
What do they find there? Hell, 
I wouldn’t go look at the grave of 
Shakespeare if it was just 
down the street. I wouldn’t 
look at—” And I stopped. I
was about to say the grave of God 
until I realized I’m looking at it 
all the time....