With Respect

Here’s part of a poem from last year that is currently in Heavy Bear 4 and was previously mentioned in the last post.

The Donna Ramble

When I got the news

I didn’t shed a tear

But got straight to

Work on the dishes

A daunting task

At best

As I had let myself go

To seed

Reduced to just getting by

On a pot, a pan and a bowl

While the sink began to

Look and smell like a

Plane crash in a swamp

So at best

It was ominous work

But it had to be done sometime

And sometime arrived with that

Phone call

I put on some lively radio

And while the sink filled

With hot, bubbly water

I took a hit off the pipe

I was ready

The pile of porcelain and

Blackened metallic things began

To disappear amongst a

Billowing cloud of milky white

Bubbles

I dove in

It was dirty work

But as the job progressed

I found my groove and

Settled into a rhythm

While I was on auto-pilot

I thought about you (not

The generic “you” that

I often think about

While doing the dishes

But you, my dearly departed friend)

I thought about my seeming

Hard-heartedness

How I had no tears for you yet

Maybe you are not dead to me

Maybe you are still going to

Call me back

Maybe I’m mourning you

Over a sink full of metaphors…

(continued at Heavy Bear 4)

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One Response to “With Respect”

  1. While I respect some of the poems in which you catalog absolutely real reasons–or representatives of those reasons—for despair; & while I respect the deflation of the suffocating upbeatedness of official communications & of people desperate not to surrender their iffy ability to provide for themselves, I love this cherishing of others’ being—in this poem, &, especially, in “Chopin.” Under the necessary roughneck you present to the world-at-large, you seem to have kept alive a loving person, receptive to others who are so, too. I know that it requires courage—& sharing what you’ve kept alive so, is valuable—for which, thank you.

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