Obama-Care.

for my friend.

 

 

 

I talked to Mrs. Angelo

the morning her cancer came back/

I had heard of such conversations

unsophisticated, rough and handmade.

Of how the metastasis

had hung like snow tipped pearls

from her kidney: the glitter

handcuffed jewels of

valetudinarian performance (her words).

"You drip long like a Black bag of

chemo" she scolded. We hugged and

cried our four eyes out, the usual.

Until she assumed the earliest

crude position of the earliest of womankind.

"Remember the house" she said. The

furnishings French Provintial/

remember the bible in the great

hall where the phone sits

secretly and cogent.

Remember being at once relevant

and meaningful, remember when

the lead paint was all the rage.

Present and past are both tender

references, evidence of our

reluctance to accept a summation.

No triage soldiers final words.

No flag draped hills. Just two

courageous friends,

 

sitting.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

love isn't about a package passed in congress...it is not a statistic...when someone is really sick...it is the friend that helps to pull him or her through...it's not about a leader leaving a legacy...it is about the memory of a friend who fought, as dylan thomas wrote, "do not go gentle unto that good night"

[writing mojo]

this friend causes an altitude to inspire such up heaved dialect...and you piggy backed the courageous to break through the ceiling fan dust just to stay farewell in one of your reverent ways...I wish john was here to say the same..

[Matching Socks]

This was a very moving and thought provoking piece.
Great job at displaying the human side of things.

[Dean]

Thanks to your review of Ken's work, I have learned of you, and naturally curious enough to read some of your stuff. Looks like I'm going to come back repeatedly--for more! Eventually, I hope to have your thoughts on mine. Beautiful work, my lady!

[m.s.early]

Subtle, elegant, and touching. There is a grace that lights on this piece, and once read it leaves a shade of hope and comfort that there can be peace through such of life's storms.

[Tree]

Two remakarable people, and one remarlkable poem. I'll take something from this piece of yours, Dana. I'll remember how it made me feel. A sad picture of true courage. And an aura of hope. Thank you for sharing this.

[W.k.kortas]

What the wise and brilliant Mr. Simm has said. As Detroit as you are and may be, this transcends city limits and colors on a pundit's map. I suspect the separating out of "care" is no accident, as this is the separtation of charged posturing and finger-pointing from the actual care in "care", the act of listening, the notion of being there when you are needed there. There is sentiment here, but not sentimentality; true poetry has a duty not to be a weepy thing, and you have painted the picture as it is, as it should be. Fine, fine work.

[Ken Simm.]

Life, modern and remembered. Words so crafted as to hit the centre wherever the reader hails from and whatever their experience. Its called having soul.