The Last Word

Suffering hallucinations is quite real.
My reputation has suffered acutely
For those screams and moans. They only occur
When I am tired beyond comprehension.

I have cinematic dreams, and blinding green
lights pulsate and revive, illuminating walls.
Sometimes writing from my teaching years
Appears in the air, a cloud of equations.

My father is watching in his Rice sweatshirt.
I am waiting for him to talk, but ghosts
Must have their etiquette and methods.
I don’t know what I would say if he appeared,

I should probably write it down, just in case.
He’s my phantom. I have so many questions
I would have difficulty insisting on answers
And perhaps equations cannot be solved

Without mentioning heaven. It’s our final
Inside joke. He told me I would always
Have the last word. Sometimes it’s painful
To be correct. I’m waiting for his voice

To issue forward. I finally found
The last word: silence. Silence and damages.

–Erin Victoria Vreeland
April 23, 2024