Please he waves as I reach for the dish of ice chips
and small salmon-colored sponge they have given him to moisten his mouth No he rasps
Your tea the smell steeped in bleachy water my chamomile from the deli downstairs
is a sudden monstrous blossom whose fragrance fills the room Jesus I say Sorry and dumping my cup in the sink
I say Sorry in my head for having snapped weeks back Stop eating bread! at that Italian restaurant on 23rd Street
two baskets in ten minutes his last real meal on Earth it turns out
Marijuana will be the new oregano
not just herbal MSG as in the cheeseburger he ate with Bud Powell in Copenhagen 1962 the best burger
in his whole entire life not because they were high but because the best so often and earnest every time Sorry
he once shouted rushing down the stairs to drive his night shift I knocked your stash into the kitchen sink Jesus
Dad! That’s catnip Sorry in my head now as I bury in my purse the wax paper bag of cookies I baked
for him with my kids
for Marijuana will be trying to smother the smell of butter I see
unfurling in golden curls the new life he will complete elsewhere
beyond my Jesus Sorry and oregano
Tina Cane is a poet, teacher and founder/director of the program Writers-in-the-Schools, RI. She hails from Hell’s Kitchen and downtown NYC and now lives outside of Providence, RI with her husband and three children. Her work has appeared in many journals over the years. Most recently, her manuscripts have been finalists in contests such as this year’s Dorset, Berkshire, First Book, Sunken Garden and Snowbound prizes–all from Tupelo Press.
