cigarettes pomo haiku
Cigarettes taste like
regrets first thing to her lips
In the bright morning
my body is…
My body
My body is
My body is young
My body cartwheels
across
the park’s green grass
A WWI rusted, green cannon
is where I stand like
a winner’s podium
waving at cars, hoping they
notice me
My body
My body is
My body is swimming in
pools
on my back to blue ribbons
My body still slices through
borrowed pools,100
laps
Clouds stop to watch me
My body
My body is
My body is strong, flowing
and diving
through ocean waves,
Racing dolphins who stop to
perform just for me
They fly through the water,
away
no matter how much I plead
My body
My body is
My body is able to create
life
Labor is worse than running
a marathon
The prize smiles
Making your heart race,
sing, and cry
My body
My body is
My body is getting old but still
knows what to do
How to dance and move
Stretching across the past
Reaching on tippy-toe to the future
My body
My body is
My body is strong
My body is not wrong
My body is all I want it to
be
despite what mothers
and magazine covers
might say to me
My body
My body is
My body is beautiful
My body is beautiful
My body is beautiful
her memory never smiles anymore
Her memory never smiles
anymore
Fog does not disappear in
the morning
like drops of dew on pink
velvet petals
Her body is still strong,
out pacing me up three
flights of stairs, despite
being eighty,
despite being decades
older than me
Her memory never smiles
anymore
Her breath does not calm
her like it used to
like ocean salt waves
healing all wounds
Nothing will return the
loss of her brain
Exacerbating the black
fear that feeds the anger—
the only thing she
remembers to eat most days
Her memory never smiles
anymore
Sitting in a Zen lotus
position in front of an altar
Crying for no apparent
reason
Hoarding possessions, she
doesn’t
know why they mean so much
but they mean so
much
Hiding them away from
invisible villains
Crying for days when she
can’t find them
Her memory never smiles
anymore
Incense wafting through
the apartment
Igniting my memory not
hers
Gift words she gave so
full of intentions
Sawing away at all of our
generational trauma
always so soothing,
Hawaiian waterfalls, falling
We were marathon runners
finally,
breaking ribbons at the
finish lines, panting
hugging, thinking we were
past the worst
Free, not realizing how
bad it was yet to be
Her memory never smiles
anymore
She lashes out at me again
Cutting my heart into
mosaic pieces
Hanging it, art on her
wall
I tell her it is the
disease shouting, blaming me
She screams I don’t know
anything
Ferociously saying I never
cared
I tell her she doesn’t
mean it
She cuts me out of her
will
Her memory never smiles
anymore
Her compassionate nurse’s
heart
Is now just a constant
tongue lashing,
slashing me
She has no patience for
her patient self
I try to make my memory
smile for her
Remind myself of who she
used to be
How much she meant to me
The burden of her behavior
tears the photo image of
her past self
away from me, fading fast
along with
the last of her memory
Sadly, my memory smiles
at the near future when
she will no longer
remember who I am
Happy she’ll forget
how mad she is at me all
of the time
My memory frowns sadly as
I try to grapple
with the logic of what is
happening
My emotions get the better
of me
I can’t find the antidote
to the poison
The memory as she
stands
In front of me no longer
smiles
It is all so heartbreaking
and exhausting
I am exhausted
Her memory never smiles
anymore
I try to breath the
heaviness
In my chest away where the
brightness
of the moon has chosen to
hide
Velvet darkness drapes all
her days
The disease is a savage
warrior
Eating the heart of its
enemy
Delighting in the bitter
taste
of me not being able to do
anything
Forcing me to forget how
she used to be
Her memory never smiles
anymore
There is no knowing
There is no remembering
until my child smiles at
me
Reminding me
how beautiful a memory can
be
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