I hear the “Beep, Beep,
Beep” of the FedEx truck
backing into my driveway.
They say “Write about your
everyday life.”  Waiting
for my monthly shipment
of chemo is just that. 

a short stroll  dog as weary as I
we take the turn before the turn  neither of us all that excited 

to begin  a week  a month  a day  sometimes
it takes a lot more than letting the past go

It began sixteen years ago
alone in my car
strands of black squirts
sprawled across the
window of my left eye

both eyes afflicted

Numerous laser treatments 
executed
staring into a bright 
light that zapped
my eyes
till I thought
i would scream
then it stopped 

the doctor came at me
with huge shots of Avastun
through my cornea
not always

numbed

i clenched the armrests
with nerves of steel
unable to move
as the needle

pierced my eye

only once you stayed
 To watch

You took my hand that day
drove me home
made me tea
you drove me for each 
treatment and 2 surgeries 
patiently waiting 
never complaining

Today he released me
good news
stable
no further damage

Alone in my car
i wept
relief
followed by
gratitude
that you were 
by my side 
on that uncertain 
journey,

Today my daughter 
shared
daddy said that you were going blind
all those years 
no one ever spoke
those words.

  Aloud

Today I wish
you could
savor the victory 
you stayed for the
bulk of it
steadfast and strong.

Sometimes, I think about leaving my footprints in a house that sent me no invitation

Did they ever think the Paris Review could be overlooked and underpriced?

The tablecloths needed just one more wash, but they ran out of time before detergent

A locket that once held everything now in a stranger’s hands, on a stranger’s neck, holding nothing

The secrets whispered in the secret garden flew away with the swallows last summer, never to be swallowed again

Sometimes, I think about writing about a house that sent me no invitation

Did they ever think a stranger’s review could hold her hostage for three seasons?

I run the wash as I run out of softener, dancing in the kitchen, curling my ankles to avoid the melancholy on the floor

I lock the back door so everything stays the same

I dream of swinging in the secret garden in my mind, for one day, my linens, too, will be thrown on the floor by a visitor I was never inclined to meet

Alas, what attracts an alien more than a foreign object? The shiny ones were always beaming to me, too…

I’ve never been good at telling people’s ages

I don’t know what that is

But something I do know is that I was young once

You were young once too

I have a really hard time remembering things

I think it’s just how I am

My mom said she noticed it one day

That she remembers more than I do

You’re only a year older than me

I was 13 when I met you

16 when you left

I remember that

How did you do so much damage to me in just three years?

I was wrapped around your goddamn finger

You were just a kid

A victim of your circumstance

But what about me?

I was a kid too

But you never thought about me, did you?

Collateral damage in a war that never should’ve been fought

Left alone and bruised at 16 to deal with the fallout

But now, I’m older

You’d think I’d be over it after so many years

But I’m not

I still feel that scared teenager within me

Trembling

So I’ll hold her like you never did

And I’ll be there for her like you never were

And I’ll never let you touch her again

                                   For Manny Grimaldi and Laura Foley                                               
                                        Thanks for the sparks        

Is an organ                                                
Of musical reflection
An album of season and story
Flame and frost
Leaving and returning
But, oh!, the dancing  

Is a melting popsicle
A sweet sticky mess
A wastebasket of discarded tissues
For every playful puppy video  
Cooing baby left on the doorstep
Hallmark Christmas commercial  

Is a muscle
Of body mechanics
Chugging legs up the mountain
Churning the paddle in rapids
One more lap in the pool
The 10,000 of what’s good for you  

Is a house divided
Walls thin enough to hear all
The doddering revolutionary
The sunflower farmer
The pity party caterer
The word tossing juggler  

Is sometimes a troublemaker                                                  
Drummer out of step
With the band
Loud murmurer
During church services
Hummingbird flutter
With no bloom nearby  

Is a beating thrum of justice
The righteous gavel
A hung jury
Some flawed martyr  

Is a romantic renegade
Leaping onto a skateboard
Racing downhill
Jumping stairs   grinding rails
The wind an ear wailing joyride
The sun urging you faster
You unruffled over what could be broken

The jangle-chord part
of my meds, either from
one of them missing and its

complement rattling around
or a piece of me is rattling around,
a car part unconnected.

Spend my whole life
trying to pinpoint what isn’t working
and piece-by-piece get back out again.

Every time you
start it up, you listen for
something out of place.

Moments before the earth grows docile

Cicadas hiss in such a fury I can’t even hear my own thoughts

The buzzing bouncing off the thudding swoosh in my own ears

Humidity that is hot and sticky clings to my face and the skin between my breasts

Though autumn is nigh, the sun’s burden of heat scorches my skin

Enflames my already hot scalp

Earth has decided to carry on its chaos as it knows a gradual shift of its presence, it’s power and strength will begin to fade

Starting with the leaves no longer as green as moss covered tree bark

Or when the mornings shift to a bitter cold, frost slabbing itself against smooth rocks and tips of grass

And though the hot smell of earth ripe with life still burns my nose, the haunting smell of decay lingers ever so lightly clinging to trees, to dirt, to the air

Even the hope of smelling apples on trees, the sweet, clean smell of life still clinging to the drooping branches is nothing but a reminder that the precipice of death is near

During dinner, you went outside
And rode your bike in the driveway,
You hit a curb, scraped your knee,
And now lay on the concrete,
Your bike lays there, ripped to shreds,
Your eyes start to cloud up,
You can choose to sit there,
Or maybe try to stand up,

You could lay, bleeding out,
Waiting for someone to find you,
But they never will, they heard you’re fine,
And think you’re having fun out there,
You’ll live your life alone, outside,
Clutching your wounded knee,
While your parents choose to stay inside,
Saying that you don’t need them,

But if you choose to stand up
And walk inside the house,
Tell your mom, with sobbing eyes
About what has just happened,
She will hold you, tend your wounds,
Soothe your crying heart,
Your dad will go and fix your bike,
And help you to cheer up,

It scared you to tell the truth,
Since you might get in trouble,
But your family truly loves you
And knows how this has hurt you,
And even though your sister’s small,
And has never tried to pedal,
She understands your hurt from this,
Even she falls when she toddles,

Please let this be a sign
To everyone that needs it,
Your family, your friends,
They’re here for you
In your greatest times of need,
However big or small,
If even insignificant,
They’re here to help,
Unload and share,
They’ll fix you up in an instant,
Don’t bottle up those troubles, sorrows,
Don’t take them to the grave,
Your family misses you dearly,
So don’t stay on the pavement.

goth for the basement show
  where i’ll catch a prion disease
     and the bassist’ll spear me
destined for bust on the wall
  overseas radiowaves thru antlers
                repeat scene
cling onto a new curly head
  who sings with me
                     with his hair flying
goth for the basement show
  midnight walk home slow
     because everyone else left
us                       but he’s too tall
     and there’s
     no hug to miss