is in Sankt Johannes nine years after his.
she fell in love with in Amsterdam is how he appears in her eulogy.
I never saw her blush.
driving rain we go on a tour of the harbor she sits unprotected smoking.
met her on the telephone you don’t know me she said but your brother has
just died in my bathroom.
been married 17 years.
sound oh the dog you have a dog yes we have a dog no I have a dog.
of his stubbornness fears Xmas dinners dope dog kindness to her mad mother
and refusal to talk about the past his beard that he would shave off when he
got some money he never did.
she usually avoids he was the light of my life is one she does use.
in tears tears fill up the phone.
she said she was a bartender in Amsterdam and he walked in that one I want
him I keep hearing when he died her clipped phrases who else between drags
should do it.
up the phone I empty it.
by the canal swans drift down the water one leg trailing one leg tucked up
in the ambulance went to the hospital and there insisted on washing the body
who else should do it she said.
is a verb form expressing obligation or necessity three little steps up no steps
in April 2010 of alcohol and indescribable longing.
blush before death.
This poem appeared in the April 19, 2012 issue of the magazine.