"What's the world for you if you can't make it up the way you want."

-Jazz, Toni Morrison


Obituary by Child

Obituary by Child

my mom told me your bowels break 
like a dam when you die

nevermind the breath

grandpa’s heart stopped on the couch
mouth parted like a goat, stale and grey in its final state

we found him already wrung out
sweat, oil, piss      vitality

all organs unplugged by some unholy spirit
the softness seeping from his cavities into the polyester slip

I sat on the couch after they moved his body to the floor
my family grasping all corners of their prayers

what existed from him was a damp corner of the 
cushion crawling between my legs

as though I just wet myself
as though I probably should run from my mom
the way babies do when they don’t get what  their body chooses
when it lets go of all the things moving inside

I remember thinking 
I was going to die like this.


Cristina Medina is an emerging writer and an MFA candidate at Antioch University Los Angeles, where she also serves as the Poetry Assistant Editor on Lunch Ticket. By trade, she is a former English K-12 instructor. Currently, she resides in Southern Los Angeles with her husband, three children, and Chorkie.

Cover photo by Anna Kolosyuk on Unsplash

There is no home

There is no home

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