This is a poem that I found on my computer. It was written during the last days of her life, 2 1/2 years ago, while she was unable to communicate with us--at least in the way we were used to communicating with her. It's not finished. It's just a little something I dashed off.
Strange to think of you now
lying between present and past tense
between now and then, not knowing where you are
not alive and not dead, not being able to talk to you
body pumped full of morphine and
unconscious nurses full of
caring and
bad advice telling
my poor father not to talk to you
Don’t be silly telling me
I can’t talk to you I can’t help you
pass through the door I can’t say
goodbye to you and I see grandma
and your grandma and you when you were 30 and me
when I was eight a living photograph now
opening their arms to you I see you standing with them
without me and I see you in so many memories
laughing sardonically and appreciatively
sharing the joke inside.
The only way to laugh.
Surrealist Doodle
This was used as the cover of Karawane in 2006 and I have included it in on a number of bags and postcards over the years. Someone on the subway asked me if it was a Miro. I was very flattered!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment