Let’s play Rumi, Rumi

I dreamed of you again today
On the bus en route to the end of the world
You smiled at me and held out your hand,
You said,
“No saving the world all by yourself,
Leave some saving for me to do, too.”
I still remember
Sitting on that Daewoo
“In rickshaw on way back,” I had texted, what seemed a million times,
but couldn’t be,
There aren’t that many days in a year,
And it only takes so many years to qualify as a professional.
A professional…what?
A writer who dentists on the side?
I like the sound of that.
“Whirring that bur, scaring the patients, aren’t you?” I heard a teacher say one time
I never realized how scary I could be
Until you scared me all at once
Don’t die on me again.
Don’t die,
“Men like him don’t die in places like this,” said the game character.
Somehow, I find it difficult to picture you,
You, who chased down mouth cancer with laser beams,
Dying from a one-word disease?
Shouldn’t there have been a one-page research paper, from a reputable publication, as your obituary?
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry
But cry I did
I didn’t say sorry, I wailed into the arms of my mother
He’s history, she said.
History and geography and social studies,
I should be writing love poems to someone my age,
Someone who isn’t dead,
Someone who isn’t afraid to save me in public,
Someone who isn’t as confused as I am.
Isn’t or wasn’t?
He’s history,
What about your legacy?
I’ll be your legacy,
But I will remember what you said in the dream,
No saving the world on my own
I can’t shoulder that burden alone
I’ll get Gabriel to hold up the earth
Michael to sprinkle it with water
But I’ll never tell you the subject of my duas,
A supplication is private,
Private life, private eye,
Privet drive, Harry Potter style,
The Potter and the tiger,
The man who was a hospital,
I can keep up this jumping game all day,
Like Crash Bandicoot,
Go away and let me play,
It’s your turn to save the world.


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