3 M0r3 MeM0r33


Bear Feast

Come in and eat w/ me tonight
There are better animals here
Than what you’re used to, or used to
Been better than me, tonight

You told me they robbed you
And you had been tilted toward this life
By your father
And other men, who loved you, or
Loved themselves in you

So that’s what we’re working with
And why I had you over tonight
To eat with me
There are now, better animals here
Than what you’re used to, or used to know
Many better than me, tonight

There were times when I’d load the sink w/ dishes
And deem you unworthy of me
The heat in me
I’d win several arguments in a row
This, I suppose, you should know, but
don’t account that as me, I just didn’t truly know you
I didn’t know

Sit down and eat w/ me tonight
There are better animals here, now
Than what you’re used to, or
Better than me, better than you

And yes, the ignorance is my own, and no
Absolution from this setting
To drag off the table, now
Not so equitable
For some

Come in and eat w/ me tonight
There are better animals here
Than what you’re used to, or used to
Better than free,





took his birthday card, fork & knife, and started to cut it with the practiced hands
that had fed him all his life
after the errand, his curled, fetal frame among dark green blankets, his knees huddled
eyes closed, face leaping between consternation and absolute vacancy
always eyes closed

he had a knack for the piano, or the thing that was last left to be eaten away
or, not so much eaten as built upon by disease, one that eliminates vision
one that eliminates individuals as a well placed bomb, and swaths of loved ones are
suddenly gone
as if your only connection to life was in the memory of another, and when they leave
the room
you disappear

he was in the Navy, and
Nana asked me to fit into his blues, and
he was smaller than me when his younger self
went off to the pacific

Did she want to see him again in me?
his hair, and his father’s hair, were just as my hair
these small boys and their wavy hair
off to war
or spared

one summer during the Fourth of July I broke the connector on his hose
and dread combed my back as I told him that I had ruined this piece of plastic

far less worse that when I dared my cousin
to kiss the trophy fish above his golf trophies

and the first memory is all of them crashing to the floor
and the second is his hand, now massive, tight around my left wrist
as the family witnesses my public punishment, or a round of random yelling

I was hoping the hose would be the least of it, after that
and when he heard the news
he knelt
the two pieces in his hands
and attempted to fit them back together
the act of which, and his inability to complete
seemed to create in him that humble fear
  he must have known that I would soon be the next thing to become unfamiliar
                  and fumble as unknown parts in his hands

why this
his body of life suddenly choosing death, and erasure
and he slowly erasing into lighter and lighter spaces
his body melting a little with each visit, his forehead beaming back onto the lake
to watch him discover himself over and over again

Nana introducing me every time
a stoic version of a reunion
histories portended over and over
“this is your son”
“this is your granddaughter”
“this is your daughter”
“that’s your son-in-law”
“I’m your wife, for 55 years, and I love you”




Bear Feast: ii


 to be honest, like
a regular
almost a footprint
in the snow
destined to live
and w/ dignity, unbecoming

a softness
that reminds you of the safety
of your body

 Come out to
That silent winter fog
No wind for your limbs
         a quick flash of nod
               Relic now

 Hampered core
and a dingy crotch
Your recording
Reaching out in the snow
“This should’ve been – “

Is that enough
For now
As though to keep filling
And pouring out
Until it runs clear

are you memory
do your limbs hover in the hall
casting new shadows



One thought on “3 M0r3 MeM0r33

  1. The poem about Papa was amazing. Thanks for your memories. I found interesting the juxtaposition of his sometime stern demeanor when well and the sadness of his confusion when unwell. Love you.


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