Today's poem is by Han VanderHart

Happy Easter, You Sonofabitch
       

Did you change, or were you revealed
that Easter morning, hefting the TV, heaving it
out the window, my parents in the apartment
below. It could have killed anyone, the TV—
its 1980s bulk. While congregations chanted
he is risen indeed, you threw the weight of the
world—a weight of the world—at your former
beloved, at the person disappointing you.
There were palm fronds waving in town.
There were hymns, lamb cake, hats and gloves.
You knew the day and the hour. You screamed it
as a curse on his head, your calendar turned
to April. Isn't who we are always revealed?
Underneath the florals, the chemical perms.
Before and after services, deviled eggs,
ham, potato salad. He knew he was not rising.
Him with the TV flying towards his head.

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Copyright © 2024 Han VanderHart All rights reserved
from Iron Horse Literary Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission