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PegLeg3 by Molly Lurie-Marino 






a Suicide















Megan Arkenberg

For the obolus
beneath your lately silvered tongue,
Charon would gladly have rowed you
across the amber
and into the fields of asphodel.
Namtar would take your hand
and open for you
the seven gates of Irkalla
and Gwyn ap Nudd,
King of the Fair Folk,
would let you join his hunt.
Ixtab, the hanged goddess,
who made your choice
a thousand times over—
she would fold you to her breast
and carry you to Xibalba.
Viking warriors
who met death in battle
had the Valkyries to guide them.
Somehow, even Dante found a poet
to lead him into Hell.

So why, beloved,
when the Gods of Greece and Sumer,
when Azrael, Anubis, the Santa Compaña,
when all would give centuries
of their dull, ceaseless existence
just for the sight of you
in the paradise you longed for—
why is it
your path is taken
with only this tattered,

rain-soaked teddy bear
tied to the lamp post
where you took your life,

its dark eyes trained
incessantly on heaven?

Psychopomp for