CODA: THE GHOSTS GO HOME. A Poem by EM Schorb.

      O lost and by the wind grieved,
      ghost, come back again.
      —Thomas Wolfe

    . . . so this is luck says Maxine
    you can take your freaking luck and shove it
    Mama says it was the aliens who helped us
    hundreds of flying saucers piloted by
    Elvises in sequined pod suits
    they lifted us off the cliff
    I told you they would I told you
    she’s nuts Buddy we’re dead right now
    dead and floating away Max dispersing smoke
    and just when I thought I was going to heaven
    to God’s bright musical castle
    where I could play the organ
    play Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland
    for all the heavenly days of my death
    O.K. Buddy but what in hell do you think
    I’m travelling for
    we left the other goddamned Disney place
    three thousand miles back
    I want to get away from it all
    that’s my heaven
    every place is the same Max
    every place is Disneyland
    now don’t you start sniveling Mama
    but home is where the heart is
    my heart is with Harry in Orlando
    poor old Alzheimer man
    I loved him so much
    for God’s sake we got all freaking bummed out
    I sent a card back home to tell
    how you’ve acted you son-of-a-bitch you killed us
    and I think you did it on purpose
    you think you can drive through space now Buddy
    still steering Max
    Maxine
    what Mama
    you children are enough to drive me out of my mind
    but the National Star
    and the Pod People keep me sane
    look at all that space
    can you fly this thing Buddy
    an American G.I. can do anything he has to do Mama
    Buddy sometimes you remind me of Harry
    why thanks Mama
    doughboys is what we called G.I.s in my day
    like you he came back full of holes
    but gassed in Belleau Wood
    beautiful name to be so horrible
    I know I don’t tell you very much
    but now that I know we are all going to
    heaven together or somewhere
    well wherever the pod people take us
    I love you both
    we love you too Mama
    don’t we Max
    O.K. so all us suckers love each other
    just keep this smoke floating
    Mama I think Maxine is blubbering up
    crocodile tears Buddy she’s hard as a rock
    no Mama you should see her up here
    shut up Buddy
    she’s had too much beer
    no I think the crash is just now sinking in on me
    but I’m not going to stop drinking my Lite
    I don’t care if I’m dead
    you are dead Max we’re all dead
    Buddy are you sure you can fly are you
    does smoke rise up from a fire
    and finally vanish in the sky
    I keep on truckin’ like I always done Max
    through war and peace Mama
    our flag must still wave
    through hell and high water Max
    I could go on flying this big beautiful
    Winnebago with the eagle wing span of an
    Enola Gay forever across America
    back and forth across this great big
    God bless America country

    FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA
     
     
    E.M. Schorb’s Murderer’s Day, was awarded the Verna Emery Poetry Prize and published by Purdue University Press, and a subsequent collection, Time and Fevers, was the recipient of the Writer’s Digest International Self-Published Award for Poetry and also an Eric Hoffer Award.
     
    Other works include 50 Poems, Hill House New York; Words in Passing, The New Formalist Press; The Ideologues and Other Retrospec­tive Poems, Aldrich Press; Eclectica Americana, Hill House New York; Manhattan Spleen, Aldrich Press; Last Exit to East Hampton, Kelsay Books; and The Poor Boy, Dragon’s Teeth Press, Living Poets Series. The title poem, “The Poor Boy,” was awarded the International Keats Poetry Prize by London Literary Editions, Ltd., judged by Howard Sergeant.
     
    Schorb’s novel, Paradise Square, received the Grand Prize for Fiction from the International eBook Award Founda­tion at the Frankfurt Book Fair. A Portable Chaos was the First Prize Winner of the Eric Hoffer Award for Fiction. His latest novel, R&R, a Sex Comedy, has won the Beverly Hills Book Award for Humor. But Schorb maintains that he is first and foremost a poet, and his poetry has appeared in numerous publi­ca­tions, such as Agenda (UK), The American Scholar (US), Frank (FR), The Hudson Review (US), Stand (UK), Poetry Salzburg Review (AU), Queen’s Quarterly (CA), The Yale Review (US), and Oxford Poetry (UK), among others.