Would Like To Ask Hitch

by Aidan Andrew Dun

Would like to ask Hitch

for Christopher Hitchens +

Would like to ask Hitch
(but he’s hiked on ahead)
knowing he’d say
being now dead
no afterlife,
nowhere to go;

Would like to ask Hitch
if mist comes first
in mysticism
and only schism
comes later
(nowhere to go)

Would like to ask Hitch
if courage
in the garden
Gethsemane
of the endgame
(nowhere to go)

Seems unclear
indefinite, vague
cold, distant
like mountain-mist
in any way
shape or form?

Or if such valour
surrender and acceptance
is the formula
right to follow
when man is left
nowhere to go

Except
Christopher
comforting now
one who went
by her own hand
from an Athens night
where you had to go.

Hitch, I miss you like hell,
got nothing to say
except rest your case.
And this human race
will move on
to spirit above:
somewhere to go.

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