Wordless
I am too tired for words.
I made the mistake of
listening to the news.
Now, I have no words.
KW
6/9/2022
I stand in the kitchen of her one-bedroom apartment
in senior housing
she sits in a plush, gold recliner by the window
I kiss her hello, my hug, crooked, since
she doesn’t lean in to greet me
There’s no music on her CD player
which I gave her to listen to big band
swing and jazz
but in the background is a televangelist’s drone
like a brown noise undercurrent
to fill the room when silence creeps in
Do dishes soon after I arrive
drove 200 miles to see her, don’t know
what sets her off
this time
Words spew, frothy and
frighten me as if I were a child
again
I stand in the middle of her living room
dish cloth over one shoulder
stay a safe distance from her
hands wet from steaming, soapy water
her pink, perfect nails dig
into the arms of her chair
I almost feel them sink
into my arms leave
quarter moon tips pressed
My ears start a slow whining
erases her thunder, not words
anymore. Her lips move
but I hear only a pitch like a siren
that will surely burst my eardrums
this time
I imagine my words, swallowed whole
their pointy edges scraping my throat
as I force them down, down
to the stomach pit
where they sallow like scum
on the surface of bone broth
Tinnitus now, my words thrum
rise, spill out over my lips, chin
ripple lower, reach the floor then fill
the room, drown the preacher’s voice
And her words dagger
again
You stand there, look just like your Dad
but this time I hear me, crystalline
no more swallowing, no more wrangling words
down to cower in stygian corners–fear vanishes:
“I didn’t choose him to be my father—you did.”
Get out, get out
Yes, when I finish the dishes.
I
Am Truth.
Open your eyes.
Look, did you see
what I saw, the
sixth day of January 2021?
I will never forget, the
shock and anguish, of
Americans storming our
United States
Capitol.
i can’t help but cry
when you embrace me.
how i’ll miss you —
certainly, you’ll realize soon
i’m too bitter for your taste.
certainly, you’ll leave me soon
for a sweeter girl,
with a honeysuckle heart.
what am i doing?
loving you,
when i can feel myself
slipping away with each passing day.
how much longer, until you realize i’m not yours?
how much longer, until i am alone all over again?
Are we all writing the same poem over and again?
We all writing the poem over and again?
All writing the poem over and?
Writing the poem over and
poem over and
over
call lights stay ringing
“can I get some help in here?”
night shift’s exhausted
code brown… it’s urgent
don’t forget the baby wipes
and air freshener!
combative patients
“can we get some Ativan?”
secure the restraints
parents are missing
no beds, no staff, no problem
PICU’s burning down
oxygen’s dropping
RT’s come to the rescue
bring the airway cart!
“go call a code blue!”
someone find the attending
please page the chaplain
saving children’s lives
mourning the children we can’t
it’s a crucial job
working side by side
PICU team sticks together
heroes do work here
Since you’re headed out the door
Which seems like for good this time
With no explanation as to why
I realize I have nothing to lose,
And now is my chance to let it all out
Without the fear that it will make you leave
I’ll close the door before you have time to respond
Because it will be something I don’t want to hear
I’ll make it short and sweet,
Save the soppy details for a bottle of whiskey
and a piece of paper,
“I love you”
