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Lauren Bessette
B. 11.5.64 White Plains, New York / D. 7.16.99 (Near) Martha’s Vineyard
Airplane Crash

July 16th, a big day in death history, what with the last tsar et al and the Kennedy cretin et al et al; what a bad day for ill-fated families. I need a ride to this wedding; how convenient that you fly a plane.
Such sad accidents of history befall the over-photographed. One last picture, please, for the files—we have everything prepared, downstairs, there is a camera in the basement.
Squinting into lenses, attired for sport, rich beyond measure, aimless, unwisely wed. Marriage is about commitment, I told her. I said, You’re not ready for this. But she was too busy listening to her star-fucker friends—no offense.
Poor fools. And then you’ll be on your way—we’ll all be on our way.
What if what if what if—a million memorialists swarm and gnaw the scenery. Believe me, half the time it’s the pills talking.
What if there hadn’t been a void to open. Please pack your bags in preparation now.
Teeth. Are you sure you’re up for this?
Ashes. And then proceed below, below.

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