as a kid
there's nothing
like wasting away inside a tiny
room
sitting on the backrest
of the couch
looking out the window
and seeing her
tread through the rain

a red umbrella covers
her.

Mother

she's going back
to the liquor store

Like the flower in my Maa's garden
which withered away, after all the love;
Maa wonders if she could have
Kept her alive a day or two longer.
And I think of you, if I could have
made you stay, with all my heart,
but you were one of those wildflowers
which died only a little more with love.

some things will take some time to wean off
whereas others you will drop at will
and some things will take a lifetime of trying
a lifetime of desiring, of wanting, of needing.

I will remember
the song that my heart
played percussions to.

I will sing the words,
with no one else,
to a song made for two.

we were poor
but not deluded

and when
van morrisson's
"brown eyed girl"
comes on the radio on
that worn
old
brown rug
my brother and I
started tapping our feet
shaking our heads
to the music and
our sisters are smiling
at us and
our mother is laughing
at us

and all we needed was
laughter and love
a prayer and a song

turn up the radio

the average cost of a funeral is
$8,515

death is unaffordable for me

put me in  big oblong cardboard box

2 feet by 3 feet by 6 feet

packing list enclosed

fragile (not really)
      please handle with care

keep upright

       or

supine

send me to the
grande vide

postage due

never wanted to feel a thing
blunt my skin on the door frame
sink through my sheets

an open mouth for candescence
friends you lose touch with
acid and lost time