Oct/Nov 2001 • Poetry |
Maddie
Aunt Maddie, whose skin
was confused between olive and grey,
and looked as if it had never
seen sun or even day, gave
me a bag of squishy black
bananas. They're poison,
she chuckled like an old gretelwitch,
don't let your momma eat them.
They're only for your dad. I didn't
say a word when mom ate one,
or later when she got the cancer that
turned her yellow and then black.Maddie came to visit her.
Laura, she said, what
you need is a club soda.
The carbonation will help anything.
We opened up the bottle Maddie brought,
watched the bubbles rise and pop, and poured
a bit into a shot
glass but mom couldn't swallow that
and died even hefore the opened
bottle could go flat.