You’ve been reading about
the bells in Japan
xxxxxxxturning past the sad points

xxxxxxxrip them out
xxxxxxxI say

You have enough sadness
xxxxxxxso do I

Upon holding a raisin gently between two fingers —

Something which is soft and fleshy at its core

xxxxxxxalone with my father
xxxxxxxhe in his hospital bed

xxxxxxxtoo soft, too fleshy
xxxxxxxa pelvis too narrow for the
xxxxxxxmachine’s arm to pass
xxxxxxxcomplications

xxxxxxxnurses, orderlies pass in the hall
xxxxxxxvoices

failure

xxxxxxxyou deserve this, it’s what you
xxxxxxxasked for

First, pile stalky green leaves high in the pan

turn the heat on, so that they begin to wilt

olive oil

more leaves, more leaves
babies

That’s enough
onto a plate they go to rest

Now a knife of butter
two eggs cracked

deposit the broken, jumbled shells into the compost bag

getting fat
spreading its girth over the freezer floor

Once the eggs are going,
walk into the living room and say something to the cat

Salt, pepper, red chile

The round brown pita goes under the broiler

The whites of the eggs have gone hard, glisten

All of it goes onto the plate, nestled gently in the greens
the pita, warmed, torn in four equal pieces
arranged around

Remembering yesterday’s breakfast
the cat will stand ready
crowd the plate
as you eat

all of us in the kitchen
xxxxxwhere it is warm

it is damp out
xxxxxevening

the radio plays
xxxxxthere is a fire in the wood stove

no hint you’ll grow old
xxxxxbuy a house

xxxxxand nearly set it on fire

setting newspapers on top of the wood stove
setting matches there too

do you want to burn it all down?

laid bare
xxxxI will bundle you up again and again
in whatever soft blanket I find
xxxxI will bury you deep
xxxxdeeper than the last time
xxxxand the time before that

Your bones in my backyard
xxxxnow someone else’s
now mine

You rise to shut the window.
I rise to leave.
I’ll just sit outside now —
xxxxxthe cold night air does not trouble me

There’s this crinkling wind
xxxxxthis feeling of possibility
now that sadness has lifted
xxxxxand fallen again

Whatever happened to your friend —
xxxxxthe one who lived in Montclair

[the one you took to the hospital that night after Thanksgiving, after making macaroni and cheese on the stove of his emptied apartment]

Emptied after the divorce —

Years late I tell you on the phone,
xxxxxin the park
I don’t want to hear this
yet again
xxxxxthe story of what happened.