According to My Ex-assistant’s Son

(assignment 21, write a poem entitled according to___)

My purpling knee injury
which rendered me bedridden
for nearly one month
could be miraculously cured
if recalcitrant adults would just heed
his repeated baby words.

“Put her in the chair, mommy.”
“Put her in the chair, mommy.”
“Put her in the chair, mommy.”

His refrain repeated, everyday and often
when he visited ill, prone, irritated
aunt by designation.

On the day,
I was well enough
to be mobile.
He points at me, driving around
chasing him through parking lot,
tired after near month of non-exertion
and says, defiantly,
“See?”

Looking Back

(assignment 20a, theme "looking back")

I look back,

my memories of you

calling to me as always.

I see you in dreams,

naked and eager-

your long hair running

between my shower wet

digits.

Its funny when I think

of being with her;

her skinny fame, her crutches,

her hair like yours,

between dry fingers

as I don’t know her

as well as you.

I think

she’s the future.

You’re the past.