Mid morning,

she off to St. Thus and So’s


First, stretch

Rev clogged throat

Pox on jays outside window


Appease stomach gods with fizzy,

scatter head demons with tiny charms,

you dirty little Doubting Thomas


Next, find hidden bottles, empty and discard,

cross fingers, pledge to be sober


Thaw her favorite chuck roast,

collect trash from kitchen, bedroom and bath,

roll blue container next to garage door,

separate glass and paper according to her plan,

line up recycling bins on wall by street


Go room by room,

pick up scattered shoes, sandals and books,

carry off pile of notes to self,

folded newspapers, half read books,

stack in closet for later distribution


Make bed right, hospital corners,

puff pillows, close drawers and closets,

arrange furniture according to original design


Fire up Dutch oven, saute’ onions, minced garlic,

brown roast in olive oil, add ground cloves,

two bay leaves, one cup Cabernet,

fill house with smell of savories and dark gravy


Shower, brush teeth, align logs in fireplace

so one match will do


Wait then in best black mock turtleneck

on garden patio, wait an eternity,

hand write overdue letters to pass time,

petition sky to, “Heal me, dammit, heal me!”


Hope her prayers can close sucking wound

that keeps on sucking,

massage eyeballs,

sniff breath in cupped palms


Align belt buckle

Practice grin and greeting

Pose, legs crossed

Pick lint


Confess to self out loud,