Saturday, February 28, 2015

The highlight of my day

As soon as I wake up, I think 
of his body 
ice cold and brittle, 
stoney, plastic-wrapped,
naked and raw in a freezer 
drawer until tomorrow 
when they push him in an oven 
and broil my brother 
as if he were corned brisket. 
It will take four hours, after all 
he’s still a hulk.
But tomorrow he’ll be warm again, 
heat will rise from him again, 
there will be light in those eyes again,
he will glow--and that moment 
when he gives off the light 
of a saint at the stake, 
that moment of glory, 
will be the highlight
of my day.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015


Down the basement stairs my megalomania 

pushes my cheerful family dog. 

Among father's beer barrels and brother’s bikes, 

with pleasure I listen to her bleating and desperate 

scratching, her lunges against the door behind 

which I sit and smile. 

Not until her anguish reaches a piteous pitch
do I open the door to receive her exuberant love,

those wet, whimpering kisses, that earnest scrambling

to crawl inside of me. 

This is the love I crave as a child but find nowhere else 

and so I stage it over and over and over again--

and not only then, but long after with boys 

who try to love me.

I make their love clearlvisible to me. 

Monday, February 2, 2015

My brother enters hospice