February 2026

January 2026

Requiem for the New Year by Mary Karr

Requiem for the New Year
BY MARY KARR

On this first dark day of the year

      my daddy was born lo

these eighty-six years ago who now

      has not drawn breath or held

bodily mass for some ten years and still   

      I have not got used to it.

My mind can still form to that chair him   

      whom no chair holds.

Each year on this night on the brink

      of new circumference I stand and gaze

towards him, while roads careen with drunks,   

      and my dad who drank himself

away cannot be found. Daddy, I’m halfway   

      to death myself. The millenium

hurtles towards me, and the boy I bore   

      who bears your fire in his limbs

follows in my wake. Why can you not be   

      reborn all tall to me? If I raise my arms

here in the blind dark, why can you not   

      reach down now to hoist me up?

This heavy carcass I derive from yours is   

      tutelage of love, and yet each year

though older another notch I still cannot stand   

      to reach you, or to emigrate

from the monolithic shadow you left.

🤠😋😌🤨😅☹️😊 This poem was read at A Poetry Gathering by Gary Smith 

This was the first Poetry Gathering at our new office space.