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Category Archives: child advocacy
Freestyle—an old poem
Sometimes we drive in the dark
Every once upon a time I take the girls
Driving in the dark
We look for places to call home–ramshackle garage, vape shop, dry cleaner with its window smashed
In the apocalypse there is still no
Room left in the inns of the world they ask
Why did she have to stick the needle in her arm? Why did she stick the needle in her arm? What was it about the needle that
Caused us to lose her?
The little one has poured her anger out over her minders all afternoon
Unwilling to face what it costs them
So I try to de Bergerac her through the necessary obsequities
I tell her I will whisper the words and she will shout–
I’m sorry
I’m sorry!
I’m sorry I was mean before
I’m sorry I was mean before
I was working out my grief
I was working out my grief
And sometimes there is anger in grief
And sometimes there is anger in grief
She has such a comical little girl voice
But when she says these things I know what God means
When He whispers in my ear
Sleeper, Awake
I hope mommy is sleeping in heaven, she says
No. I say, she is dancing and singing in heaven
People don’t sleep in heaven
I wish I were in heaven she says
We have work here for now, I say. That is why we have God time–sing and dance
So we are ready for heaven
When it comes
Lanterns to release in air
She wore a soft, pink sweater (her sister bought) as though the cool chill of October could touch her anymore and the small group of people gathered at her ad hoc memorial are floating up as the sky darkens
The ashes and the pink sweater and the flash of inexplicable light get me again and again
I have to conjure some litany for this–
Sprite, fly
Luminesce
Alight upon yonder shore
King Lear Large Print
For years I have wondered if I would see you there
In Heaven
When so many of the things you have said to me
Seem so tragically
infernal
Mermaid
Grief been here before–Target was closed and we drove
In my presbyopia I could not identify the man or his freaked out dog
Who can tell between Sirens and mermaids? They are both capable of artifice and the old-fashioned waterborne howl in
Such dark waters
I swim back to the day
The park
Beauty all around
And fast food wedding feast
Pregnant bride vomiting while
Someone took money from the medic’s bag
How did we drive back across that precipitous bridge?
All I can do is elide the best of you with
What will be
What must and shall
Be.
John 2:5 KJV
[5] His mother saith unto the servants, Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it .
Beat Yins to the House!
When we met Mary and Charles they had some vocabulary specific to the western Pennsylvania region. They used the word yins for the second person plural, the way a Texan would say y’all or a Parisian would say vous.
I’m-gonna-beat-yins-to-the-house! She would yell joyfully, running up the small hill to the porch.
Eventually she lost the yins
But I am praying that she did
Beat us to the House
Drawn this way
My son Ben drew this
The distributive property of addiction
The thing itself seems too big and awful–she liked to shoot up in the bathroom, the list of people who enabled her suggested a big bathroom
Why do this thing? Where do the needles come from? Where do they go after? Do heroin addicts have sharps containers?
I make the elements of the equation as simple as possible–
Keith died of it
Mary died of it
It must have been a doorway
Why do you walk through that doorway the first time?
What is through the doorway that is so compelling that you must go back–no matter what
What were they running from?
She tells the story as though they were just cooking bacon
Who lets a 4 year old cook bacon? Who lets a 4 year old watch a fire burn or find their own way floor to floor to grandma’s apartment?
Who falls asleep on the bus back from the methadone clinic
With a baby
My baby. My baby now
I cannot turn away
If x equals the thing you must have and y equals the way it makes you feel
Then they were simply bound to x because of y
Like sky or free diving
there is a rush
But this time, this thing, chained her to it, brooked all reason
in the blood and the brain you cannot undo
Alone
Carrying Light 