Why Do We Do This
He was a gangly kid. Ugly on the upside.
Unmemorable, until the day he died.
Suddenly, he was totally everyone’s best friend.
They try to one-up each other with “Timmy” stories.
Why do we do this? What is wrong with us?
Is it our claim to fame to know a person who is gone?
I saw him Thursday night at Tuck’s Treats. He looked sad.
We chewed watermelon gum together on Friday.
I saw Timmy a few seconds before the grizzlies dragged him off.
I heard him screaming for a long time.
I called the police, but I could not get through.
I heard they dragged him way into the woods. Uh-huh. I saw it happen.
People who would have not recognized Timmy in a lineup of
Two even after nine or ten tries suddenly are at his house,
Wailing louder than his relatives, telling Timmy stories.
Trying to one-up each other.
What is wrong with people?
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