Suicide Bookshop

Spring, 2022 / No. 48

An old paper Faber Colossus

A Leaving Las Vegas

A People One Knows

Now an Infinite Jest

we’re gonna need a bigger shelf.

Watch a VHS film about Sylvia Plath. (Forgive nobody.)

This place is haunted by pale teens in overcoats

with bags under their eyes

searching for long sad books.

A dabble in Benjamin leads 

to six poems by Baudelaire

and a thought for Camus.

Now Richard Vaughan and Kath Mulherin. 

Daniel Jones. Brat X.

Al Purdy (assisted).

Death by drowning:

Woolf by wading

Spalding Gray by leaping in.

Or booze, drugs and guns:

Hemingway in Idaho and Kurt—poor Kurt

in those sad Converse One Stars, 

wrecked, at home in suburban Seattle.

O’ poor Kurt. Poor Richard

Manuel—now who will sing “Whispering Pines”?

Don’t let’s get started on the musicians before a brief remembrance 

of Richard Outram’s own Tolstoyan ending, or—look!—

up, up—Trout Fishing in America—poor Richard Brautigan—

“He created his own Kool-Aid reality and was able to illuminate himself by it.” 

Get me that small stool

I need to reach the top shelf.

(With a line from the Richard Brautigan story “The Kool-Aid Wino.”)