generations of use

grandma's hands
have skin that is
tissue thin.
soft, like wax.
her veins are an oxidized green,
a busy road map of her life.
her nails are yellowed with age,
like an old news paper,
yet fortified
like strong will.
her palms are sewn with
deep-set riverbeds of good fortune,
and her fingertips swirl
gracefully,
yet whimsically;
a testament to her subtle humor.

She clasps my hand in hers
where I can admire
the time and beauty of her lived-in
hands.

The hands that mothered four children
that delicately formed matzo balls for her
hot soup.
That sewed my baby blanket as it fell apart,
and mastered massage.
The hands that folded quietly every morning
in somber meditation at sunrise.

These hands where mine were clasped
were well-loved.
We didn't earn them, but they were for us.

didn't get your text

lol
is for

la la la laugh out loud
when you're not around.
ha ha ha how funny,
clever, and witty!

lol
is for

la la la lost the energy to call you.
and fell asleep. oops.
ha ha ha have nothing more to say,
lol in the conversation.

lol
is for

la la la last time we spoke?
sorry, I've been busy.
ha ha ha heard your voicemail
did you need to talk?

lol
is for

la la la later we'll catch up
if I have the time

ha ha ha had something good
but dropped the call

who's lol-ing now?

home

i love this
crook
in your arm,
just so.

this spot
where i can rest my cheek
between your chest
and shoulder.

it is warm
and right
and when lie together,
jigsaw-perfect,
entwined as
a jungle of limbs,
i don't wish.

the world is far gone
and i sink
into this niche
not asking for it back.

encounters with strangers

as I am walking,
just walking,
a white jeep backs
quickly into my path.

dude! learn how to drive,
I scold the driver,
with whom I am now face
to face
save for the
dense glass window
between us.

a second flashes in his
iced eyes,
which meet mine.

he is young,
sixteenish maybe,
and stunned into silence.

the boy understands me
and I walk on to finish my day,
but he stays with me.

some nerve

today my father cradled me in his arms
for the first time
in eight years
and said,
I love you.

I love you,
and cried
into my shoulder.

tell me,
father,
where was your shoulder
when I needed to cry?

you left me
your baby girl
your daughter
for the cold plastic
and rubber
of your favorite remote control.

did you think of me
while you were plastered
to the couch,
drooling
on what we could have shared?

no.
you turned the volume up
or changed the channel.
you flopped over,
and finished your slumber.
while I screamed your name
for eight years.

this feels
to me
a bit like remote control.

an ode

they give us these
--it's not our choice--
and we are judged
before our voice.
but here they are,
they must be crucial,
or else this material would not be so fruitful.
Here they sit,
(some call them tits),
these chest protruders
make rude men ruder.
melons, girls, and sometimes and boobs
my boyfriend often says "jahoobs"
twins, hoohas,
you've got a, nice rack,
I was talking,
have you lost track?
twins because there are two,
knockers, also, but you can't come through.
tata's, titties, itty- bitties
it's not true that small ones are shitty.
and some say, honkers, though they don't make noise
I've gotten so sick of being touched by boys.
jerks who call them hooters
ought to be neutered
"fun bags" is even worse
if you want to play you better ask first.
cutesy names are sometimes nice;
except headlights or mosquito bites.
flat and flabby when we're old and crabby,
when we're young, men get grabby.
Round or plump
or thin and small
it's even ok if you've none at all.
try and be thankful for what you've got
because it's special, this twin crop.

for the millionth time

If there's something I know, it's being fat;
I've always been quite good at that.
Sweat,treadmills,diet pills,
torture 'til I've had my fill.
Acupuncture and Weight loss shakes
do not a thin women make.
Ab rollers and south beach, too
I've spent days in spanx
'til I turn blue.
Herbal remedies, Jenny Craig,
special tea, drink the dregs.
I've tried everything, alli too,
low-carb diets erase my stool.
And when I'm done I'll check my mirror
adjust my eyes to see me clearer,
front view forward,
side view next...
what's he thinking when we have sex?
lift this here, jiggle that
drown in the gravity of being fat.
look at these legs,
they're like trees.
I stare at myself and feel obese.
double chins and muffin tops,
this dieting thing is such a flop.