works by w.pham

works by william pham, 2005-present
When I Arrive

When I arrive at the vacuous nonexistence of
the afterlife of my atheism, and stand trial before
a jury and judge consisting entirely of nothing,
they will call me to testify, and because
I have seen at least one episode of Sex and the City,

I will begin as such:

"Skipping past the stupid crushes though
I have the bite-marks from kindergarten to verify
the memory of the girl who pulled my hair every day,
let me just say that I really did think that
I loved her despite all rational sources advising otherwise,
and when I told her it was over
I'm sure it was for her own good
even though I had to talk her out of committing suicide
for the next three hours while
sitting on the floor of my own bathroom,
after having punched three holes in the thin plastered walls
on three separate occasions not entirely unrelated
to the subject matter at hand.

And I don't know why
I never called back that girl I knew from high school
after sleeping with her in her parents' house
some five years after she told me it would never happen
with a pat of the hand and gentle but final smile,
but -- "

They will cut me off with a nothing gesture,
nothingness will pat my hand, and will not smile.

"You've been talking to yourself all this while,"
they will say or not say.