At 42 I woke with one breast in a single suitcase in the cemetery of bell towers We were lucky in a ghost fog bone atoll lonely I told Ellen it will kill me this time I said, Take the cats, too I’m worried. You’re a size two! She tastes chemicals in the ice chips Mary, Mary quite contrary skating in a laundry basket even the camellias froze as a peach julep how does your garden I mean, I’m a size two but I have cancer left lung not moving |
You could slice over a glass your Grandmother’s tomatoes a rosary The snow’s still here we got to know each other in ’79 the Chesapeake froze from shore to marrow Bring me the phone and the CAT scan results I have 8 hours to gather my belongings Here’s you in polka dots— there is so no such thing Was that you throwing up? Nurse expressed doubt she’d last 90 days ate some flan today, more animated Quick Mom, 90 days in the sea, in the bay let’s go out and— |