The following can also be found in the book Chicago Stories 1998. Click here to learn more, and to download a free electronic copy.

There's a big difference
between having a death wish
and being suicidal,

the boy thought
as he sat on his mattress
and involuntarily flinched
from the latest drop
of malt liquor
going down his throat.

Suicidal
means you want to die
and you're ready to do something about it.
A death wish
just means
you still want to die
but you wish someone else would come up
and do it for you.

People with death wishes
commit suicide,
but just slowly,
very very slowly,

the boy thought
as he petted the dog
he should have owned
gently scolded the son
he should have had
made love to the woman
he should have married

People with death wishes
do heroin
and become prostitutes
and go on the Jerry Springer show.
They really want to die
but are just too afraid
to do it themselves
but instead
put themselves in situations
where they hope
someone
will be kind enough
to do it for them.

The boy was sure in his convictions
He owned every album Pavement ever made
He stood at his window
watching chaos
masquerading as a sidewalk
and wondered
how everything could have gone
so right
despite his best efforts

The boy stuck his finger
in the box fan
at the window
and let the plastic blades go
tippity-tippity-tap
fantasize his digits
slowly getting
smaller and smaller

Suicidals are weak little shits,

the boy thought
as he poured cold water
over his head
in his kitchen sink

Of course, death wishers are also
weak little shits.
Just better weak little shits.
Death wishers believe
that the only true good way
to die
is by another's hands
Suicide is a copout
Bitterness is a copout
Heroic martyrs is a copout
Suffering little artists is a copout
The only true good way to die
is inch by slow inch
one braincell at a time

The boy turned on the television
disgusted with the flickering images
slowly cascading
The boy turned on his stereo
disgusted with the music he owned
He took all his CDs
in a mighty armful
and with one fell swoop
tossed them out the window

That'll show you!
he screamed at them
four stories below
Tell ME to walk like an Egyptian!
That'll show YOU!

The boy watched
a two-inch cockroach
slowly climb up the side
of the white wall
lazily considered killing it
then decided
he's got better things to do
and why kill a cockroach
just for doing
what he wanted to do?

So the boy decided
to do just that
and he stuck his hands
on the wall
and then his feet
and slowly
climbed
up
the
side
of the apartment
and when he reached the ceiling
and was getting warm from the lightbulb
and was looking down at his worldly possessions
still hampered
by their massive force of gravity
he thought

What's the big deal
about being a cockroach?
The world's still the same
I'm just looking at it upside down now
and instead of going splat
I'd go crunch now
This ain't so grand.

So the boy climbed back down
the side of the apartment
sat down on his bare mattress
took another drink of malt liquor
felt his throat muscles constrict
as if they would scream of their
own volition
and thought

There's a big difference
between having a death wish
and being suicidal.