I was sure that I had failed my mother, unable to keep her in her home, as I had once promised.
Giuseppe, a simple shoe-maker,
who never learned English, stood
banging his head against the wall,
cursing God in his native tongue
Look at me, writing circles around what I must face:
The man I love is dead.
Between this and that, my wife, my dear little cowslip,
was misdiagnosed with heart failure and everything I loved
lost its pigment. The old reds weren’t red anymore,
the rose bushes on the path by the river had lost their pink
Directed by Martin McDonagh and starring Brendan Gleason, this film, which mixes darkness and humor, won the 2006 Academy Award for Best Live Action Short Film.
So, how are you? friends ask, all kindness & concern,
heads cocked, eyes locked in mine.
&, just like that, I’m his again:
his wife, his widow
As the world continues to endure the ravages of COVID-19, another ghost of Dickinson steps into view.
At the time it seemed a good idea
Dividing his ashes
How can they use such names and be not humble?
I have sat silent; angry at what they uttered.
Grief is a Thief—quick startled—
Pricks His Ear—report to hear
Of that Vast Dark—
That swept His Being—back—
An amputated leg, they say, tingles,
an ear long deaf still jangles the brain:
the body asserts the integrity of its parts…
There are worse ways to waste time
than watching videos of baby hippos…