Birthday of the Dead
- David M. Harris
- May 28
- 1 min read
By David M. Harris

Facebook has solved that pesky problem
of mortality. Most of my dead friends seemÂ
to keep having birthdays. Every yearÂ
I get reminders of Susan’s birthday, and Mal’s,
and Tony’s and Gardner’s, and allÂ
that expanding roster.
Â
Their profiles still greet me
and invite fresh communication.Â
I am urged to post a new message
keeping the dead informed, reminding themÂ
that I am still pleased to know them
or to have known them. Tense is
problematic.
                     Not many peopleÂ
still post there, as word spreads,
but those pages are open for business.
And every year their hosts still go on having birthdays,
helping the survivors forget that terrible
border between living and being dead.
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Until 2003, David M. Harris had never lived more than fifty miles from New York City. Since then he has moved to Tennessee, acquired a daughter and a classic MG, and gotten serious about poetry. His work has appeared in Pirene's Fountain (and in First Water, the Best of Pirene's Fountain anthology), Gargoyle, The Labletter, The Pedestal, and other places. His first collection of poetry, The Review Mirror, was published by Unsolicited Press in 2013.