Mad at McDonald’s

McDonald’s makes me so mad.
Wendy’s as well.
With Long John’s I am livid.
I feel like SHOUTING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS, SCREAMING until shortness of breath breaks
me
No one seems to notice she hasn’t eaten there in a while
I wish someone would have the decency to discontinue her favorite salad, sandwich, shrimp since
She
isn’t
eating
anymore.
Really, it is McDonald’s I’m mad at.
And also, I am angry at every other place.
I don’t ever want to go there again.
Any
way
it’s hard to swallow.

Orphan Mother’s Day

I won’t look back and call to her.
She won’t look for me and miss the stone in her step,
break her fall with her glasses, blame-me-not for the
bruise and missing pieces.
Her crown won’t fall off.

Yet.

She is here like nightfall falling
all around.
So sure sometimes
I forget to notice.

I don’t forget she let me go on ahead except in
certain circumstances.

This season my gift is letting her go

noticing, grateful we got to walk together,

in this certain
darker night
fall
she went on ahead.

I’m pleased through the pain the
ethereal path has
smoother stones.

I never knew a tenderloin could make me cry

(a tribute to Frogs because it’s not easy being Green)

no one thought to warn me about  a tenderloin.

it could have been the onions?

maybe it was the memory

of how We’d get one for Two

And talk about how big and wonder

how We could ever manage it all

and then admire Our teamwork

upon completion.

on this day

left alone  (except in spirit)

to do it by myself–

it could have been the onions

causing my throat to close causing

my nose, my eyes, my mind

to run sense no one

ever warned me about  a tenderloin–

I remembered

no one ever told Me except

YOU.

MattHew marMorial for Mark, Uncle Monte, ALR

I love my cousins.

Matthew is one of them.

One day one summer I was his favorite.

All I had to do was read.

The same book.

Over

and over.

And

over!

And make the fish lips between pages.

We made a movie together too that summer.

Maybe neither of us would win an Oscar, but anyway we had a lot of fun.

I wish I could remember which book it was Matt liked so much.

I remember being happy Mark and his friend liked my SF collection from class, but Matt’s book has been forgotten.

What has not been–and what will never be– forgotten

is the sight of him flying kites with his little cousins at the lake last year when we celebrated his mom’s birthday.

Nor will I forget his sweet shining smile when he said I was his favorite

and any time I saw him after that.

Charles Dickens said, “I love little children, and it is not a slight thing when they,

who are fresh from God, love us.”

I love Matthew, and it is no slight thing that he,

who is fresh back to God,

loved me.

For glen and my grandma who would–after all–be 108 years old

My sister keeps your house

It still seems like home

Even if a squirrel or snake comes for the winter and decides to stay

Like the others who saw your open door, walked through to the warmth

And stayed a little longer

Like you stayed longer than anybody else you knew

Awed to be allowed

We worried once

Then an angela parenza eye saw something

Knowledge I hadn’t ever known

She imparted, impact only, “the foundation is fine

Very good in fact; there’s no problem here”

And with that ray of hope ringing in our ears

We realized what’s right amongst some ruin

With a firm foundation

We can keep rebuilding