Jenny Was a Friend of Mine

Josh Smith


Untitled Document

Who’s next?

Who’s left…?


We are what’s left of the graduating class

            of depression, dysphoria, and despair.


We hold our reunions graveside,

our fight song is “Taps.”


Our suicides are not surprises;

every year is a bonus year.


We keep Mad Libs goodbye notes in our pockets

like drafts of valedictorian speeches:


            “Dear _____, I’m _______, but I can’t go on.

            I didn’t mean for it to end like this, but tell ______ I _______ them.”


We signed Jenny’s guestbook:

have a good summer, we’ll be in touch soon.


She was our Most Likely to Succeed;

I suppose that held true.


Who’s next?

Who’s left?


Look to your side, look to your other side,

if the seats are empty—



Josh Smith has a career held together by spit, duct tape, and whimsy. No one else on Earth has both a Harvard education, and a pair of Iffy Awards for Best Hair.