Nancy Krygowski

Elegy in Present Tense

Hes climbing a tree, hes standing on the beach with me, hes holding
a radio antennae out the window as he drives, hes finding
the 49ers, the Indians. Hes turning 29. Hes driving
to Arizona on a whim, hes calliing from Idaho, calling
from San Francisco, telling me I love this city. Hes growing
a mass next to his lung. Hes telling me not to break
a certain heart, hes telling me he will get
better. Hes finally crying. Hes hovering over his guitar, hovering
at the refrigerator, pulling out cottage cheese, barbeque sauce. Hes blacked out, hit
his head on the bathroom mirror. Hes slapping
his red tennis shoes against the linoleum, dancing
to The Pixies. Hes getting his t-cell count. Hes walking
across the bridge, walking in the door, hes saying hey there and saying
no chemo this Fridaymy temperature was 103. Hes slurping
the bowl of soup, the cup of coffee. Hes mumbling
through the morphine. Hes buying me birthday cake, handing
me a tinfoil crown, saying youre queen for the day.
Hes granting me three wishes. Hes refusing
to eat macrobiotically. Hes telling me his newest theory on sex,
his newest story about dogs. Hes telling me The Plan. It starts withI
live.

Nancy Krygowski

 

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