this weekend past

my family came for easter
plus mysister's friend mikey garn, who rocks
and we had so much fun, my heart almost broke
literally; i had a heart-racey episode for the first time in years, and it scared me to death because i couldn't get it under control and my heart still hurts from all the scary racing and pumping WAY too fast
so i am getting insurance so the next time it happens, i can actually go to the hospital without worrying about being unable to get insurance at a reasonable price...(due to preexisting conditions ie heart problems)

and here's a poem about it


something so small

I picked pink lilacs on thursday
still on monday they are gone
scented deadly by a longing
for the clock to hold its hand
the same flesh-like emotion
my mother holds when i am scared
my heart shuddering in its chambers
a thousand children high on candy or
the sound of stars unfolding into galaxies

i close my eyes
i hear the sound

I gathered violets in the green
friday noontime in wilting sun
still on monday they have gone
a tidal gentleness of longing
poor substitution for grace or love
hold me in the darkest light or leave me dry
soaking in gingerale, petals wilting
(you can be me when i'm gone)
a darkened lingering on a polaroid
a heart pounding ten beats for every one

(hold my hand)
i hear the sound

i've placed dried flowers over every thing
a careful embroidery of life and debt
engulfing nostalgia in a frame, cutting us out
the photograph forgotten, the journal burnt
saturdays i place forsythia on the table and pray
for hand-holds, for green grass, for fire
(place the cream cheese in the celery and run)
as long as i am torn up, golden flowers will grow
still on monday, i am gone

the eager hawk rips the chipmunk
(my heart is a hummingbird)
galaxies collide; i hear the sound