I Just Became That Guy

By Jacob Kreutzer

I do not understand why,

but midway through
the pastor’s melancholy
speech, my mind drifts
to that time you streaked
down Elm Street shouting
to the late night world
that you were free.

A burst of laughter
escapes my mouth
and all eyes find me.

Stuck in that box,
you are again as free
as a nudist,
but I’m just the guy
who laughs at a
funeral.

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