While Michael Lays Dying by Rosemarie Castoro

Before I was aware of the news, I just had a good friend for tea, and he helped me bring some pictures out in the light. Little did we know, an unveiling of another kind was happening in California. Once I found out, I was dizzy as I ever was…the dizzy kid hovering over the red plastic record player watching the picture disc—Michael Jackson reclined in his white suit—spinning into oblivion’s blur. As Thriller played, Michael disappeared. As if it’s the only way to find our place again, we tend to never forget where we were during times of shock. Where were you when the news broke about Michael? Rosemarie Castoro’s poem “While Michael Lays Dying” records her sense of place and sense of self all the while the story and identity of Michael Jackson unravels. Gathering the pieces, David Goodman’s synecdochical portrait of Michael Jackson is a taxonomy of shattered masks, evolution, and decay. The death of Michael Jackson was not just a rupture to reality, but also a rupture to fantasy and dream.

– Richard Goldstein