AFTERNOON BANQUET IN THE LEFT VENTRICLE
put the silencer on the morphine,
hold the pagers, disconnect the phone
the daisies are outfitted with eyes, motion censors
the bears, cameras in their bowties.
everything is quiet, disheveled but clean.
the gleam in the linoleum flits in the sunlight,
in the beep light,
in the nurse light,
in the resident light,
the sunlight flits in your open palm
basks in my tears.
PASTRAMI FROM THE FOODBANK
I buried the animal in my stomach,
The taste? A gentle bovine face.
And when I swallowed
grief made a hide appear and I could
feel my hands smoothing her back,
muscles twitching under fly bites,
and smell the smell of fertilizer,
and hug her tightly like a child until
the farmer disappeared,
and what remained
was an animal eating carrion.
The funeral took place on the bed
while I daydreamed out the window
and watched ravens fly in the rain.
I chewed slowly, each slice of corpse
swallowed until my plate was clean,
until my soul was turned inside out—
a reflection of water in the sky
one body indistinguishable from another.
It was then I thought of my mother.
Across from the food bank
darling old ladies
climb the firescape of Hair 101
to get to the yoga studio upstairs.
I wait in the van
and watch a man
carry a basket of apples.
His jeans are shredded into tassels
down from his knees,
the strands blow in all directions
and a little girl runs ahead of him,
she chases a Mylar balloon.
Evelyn sits at the bay window
in the community room.
Marmy curls up around her abdomen
we're coming along now.
The pace maker doesn't have to work quite so hard.
Blessed be the nurse who,
inspired by a 2009 study on Cardiovascular Diseases
and the benefits of cat-petting,
decided to go out on a limb and give a lovable stray
a second shot at life
by extending the life of her resident.
that plants grow faster when read to,
that children's language skills
develop faster when they read to house plants,
that house plants improve the air quality in apartments,
that renting an apartment can be cheaper
in the long run,
for a disabled person.
The studies have got to show some basis
for the success of unlikely human relationships to continue
under such extremes as war, famine,
and the reemergence of prehistoric diseases.
Present us with a revised edition for
the peer-reviewed guidebook to the Universal Heart.
We have got to continue to apply for the funding
so Love can continue its exploratory tract for the 260,000th year
in the Department of the Ephemeral and Unconditional.
The instinctual drive towards connection
is the adjunct professor and the underpaid research assistant
who hit the restart button
on Life's Ultimate Purpose
for further study
morning into morning
after an over-brewed Starbucks coffee.
In disorder there are patterns,
if anyone wills to look closer,
and ask them where they came from.
Who wove them together?
A father—he was commanded
to create them,
the first thing,
the second thing,
a third, a fourth,
knock each other about,
on their threads, orderly bopping
to and fro like this,
a newton's cradle—
one catastrophe after another.
we gave up while we're still ahead, we
now know that most of our dreams
are meant to die.
we lie down with the dog,
with all its fleas,
all its fleas.
we stop carrying dreams,
we stopped bearing our arms.
because, without dreams,
we can die in peace.
with Enya playing
Her eyeballs were moons
tucked away in the clouds.
A pussycat sat on her feet.
Many thanks to our featured poet today, Hilary Krzywkowski, writes that she “moved my family with our minivan to the Oregon Coast from Cleveland last summer. I'm still settling in and receiving long overdue heath care. My "Death Star" series is an unraveling after a long trip, coping with my fear of death amid chronic illness and a busy life of medical appointments. I also have a blog link: healinghilarysheart.wordpress.com to the writing I put out, and, around April 5-10 I'm doing a post featuring the work of fellow Autistic poets.” Welcome to the Kitchen, Hilary, and don’t be a stranger!
Poets in our area are reminded that Wendy Patrice Williams will be reading tonight (plus open mic), 8:30pm, at Good Earth Movement Poetry Night in Placerville. And the second of four of Sac. Poetry Center's NaPoWriMo Generative Workshops will take place at 25th & R Sts., Sac., at 6pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
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