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Mariah Bosch

[Person] died alone and in the morning, surrounded by strangers who catalogued every blemish. Family arrived to confirm the location of each freckle. She was born in [Somewhere City] and died nearby. She is survived by [Someone] and [Some Other] and they’ve already began forgetting, whether they know or not. She never wore collared shirts because they reminded her of her head’s attachment to her body.   [Person] died in the afternoon but did not live comfortably past the morning. Their family did not know them and neither do I.  [Person] died in his two-car garage next to one car. [Person] liked his cars and his garage very much. He is survived by two cars nestled still in their garage. They cannot visit his grave.  [Person] died alone. He had brown eyes that needed glasses. He was born on a farm and dreamt of it. He wore t shirts ordered from Facebook generated by an algorithm & printed at an office and shorts covered in pockets to fill with peppermint patties for their [Person]. [Person] drank chocolate Pedialite as his only nutrient but constantly craved purple grape juice in the end.

   

Copyright © 2021 by Mariah Bosch. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on March 17, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.

Mariah Bosch

Mariah Bosch is from Fresno, California. She is a teaching associate and MFA candidate in poetry.

About Mariah Bosch
Themes
Aging
Audio
Body
Death
Existential
Family
Mourning
Technology
About this Poem

“I wrote this series of bot-obituaries in the wake of my grandfather’s death in October of 2018. I felt as ‘the family poet’ that I should’ve been given some opportunity to write his obituary and instead, the one that was published feels much like these: limited, looking away from real life and toward reduction. The final column is my documenting of his final days. The current form is also in conversation with Victoria Chang’s Obit, a book that pushed me to think of this poem’s true intent.”

—Mariah Bosch

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Related Poems

René Descartes and the Clockwork Girl

In man, it was written, are found the elements
and their characteristics, for he passes
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He comes into being and passes out of being
like the minerals, nourishes and reproduces
like the plants, has feeling and life
like animals. His figure resembles the terebinth;

Kathryn Nuernberger
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OBIT [The Blue Dress]

The Blue Dress—died on August 6,
2015, along with the little blue flowers,
all silent. Once the petals looked up.
Now small pieces of dust. I wonder
whether they burned the dress or just
the body? I wonder who lifted her up
into the fire? I wonder if her hair
brushed his cheek before it grew into a

Victoria Chang
2018

Endtime

Why cannot the ear be closed to its own destruction?
—William Blake

Anne Waldman
2015

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