"It's about words, and words are all I have…"




Yesterday a picture  sent from a pre-menstrual niece:

It’s a godless world   said she  And I don’t know why

I can’t stop weeping   Post menses  she is sweet +upbeat

Can even recite  The Epic of Gilgamesh  at will   Did her

dissertation on it


The picture: from the land of innocence  40 yrs. since family

sliced+diced   Faces un-scarred  Bodies un-scalpeled   Dew

on the grass  (Yes! they even had dew in the 70’s..)    Alas

youngest child in the picture dead   Too many night sea

journeys   Other 2  now mothers of 4 children   Oldest woman

also dead   Lungs infected by filthy pigeon  Jackson Square

New Orleans


Niece wondered if we will meet again   Plaintive howl  via e-mail

Can there be a better place old frizzled auntie?  Not only is there

a better place  but  what we once have been   we shall be again

When skin+bones are highly theoretical  +we swim with the fishes

(not a mobster reference)


I answered: Love is immortality   Sounding like a cross between Jesus

and CSNY   No such positivity had left these lips since 1976   when I

had no knowledge of death   It too was theoretical   Just kiss a rock-like

brow in your parent’s condominium  +that horse has left the barn   But

I will leave you hopeful  as too many of you grow sickly  + are a strange

shade of yellow  from following this blog too closely


Little Tameeka came for therapy   Kidnapped in Africa by her father

Fierce little warrior girl   Escaped genital mutilation too   Dogs at Pearson

International sniffed her   Separated form her father +sent to fostercare

At first she suckled therapist’s knuckles   Then gradually developed a smile

too big for her tiny face  +a laugh that echoed through the ethers  to the

room of her mother in Ethiopia




Fall  2017






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