Christian Hanz Lozada

The Encroaching Unknown

 

Instead of in some distant field

weighed down by grass and stone,

some of us used to mummify

and keep our family at home,

sometimes in the basement, 

sometimes in the attic, 

sometimes in the living room

like a TV or a family portrait.

 

Instead of some distant field

weighed down by grass and stone,

some of us cremate and keep family

in portable containers,

sometimes on the mantel

or in a basket by the door

depending on the immediacy 

of love, need, size, or honor. 

 

Why bury bodies like a dog’s bone

or some unshared treasure?

Why bet on knowing 

the encroaching unknown 

when all it promises are 

arrival and mystery?

Hedge your afterlife bets when

God might take you or might not.

 

Better to stay home, surrounded

by the familiar and love.

Better to stay home 

and wait and see.

 

 

Christian Hanz Lozada aspires to be like a cat, a creature that doesn’t care about the subtleties of others and who will, given time and circumstance, eat their owner. He wrote the poetry collection He’s a Color, Until He’s Not. His Pushcart Prize nominated poetry have been published all over the world, including in Bamboo Ridge, Cordite Poetry Review, Emerson Review, After Happy Hour, Does It Have Pockets. Christian has featured at the Autry Museum and Beyond Baroque. He lives in San Pedro, CA and uses his MFA to teach his neighbors and their kids at Los Angeles Harbor College.