Suicide Mission Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Once I realised my brother had legitimate
reason to be unhappy and that I could not
help him, I went on a suicide mission, got
hold of a mountain of life-threatening onion
rings and unsavoury chips and stuffed me
like a sausage machine, feeling too sorry
for the innocent security guard to pawn it
off on him once I saw the grisly content of
the greasy box in which they arrived

Feeling much better for the effort at self-
immolation and a headache to obliterate
the heartache of accepting he is in dire
straits and beyond the help of a younger
sibling - I can do nothing for him, no word
or gesture of mine can bring back what he
has lost or turn back the clock - at least, I
did the next best thing, stopped my own
sorrow from escalating

According to a spiritual master we cannot
help someone by jumping into the sea while
they are drowning unless we bring a life-
jacket and can really swim well; I lack both
things - I can only conjure an image of him
prospering again, all that is needed, the guru
assures his readers; but singing while skipping
down the street as he also recommends is
not within my powers, I must confess