another life, not televised, and union

Recorded at the YMCA Metro Central on November 2, 2005

Recommended

Funeral Day in Saint John

Weeping by a fake porthole in the Hilton’s breakfast restaurant I eat seconds of bacon, and thirds My grandfather wouldn’t have minded my breaking kashrut He would have whispered “I won’t tell if you don’t tell about the cheeseburger yesterday,” and chuckled sweetly My mother is at her mother’s place not listening to the sound of the phone ring— sealing saran-wrap around a sponge cake, our Friday night leftovers soggy, teetering in the pan The ocean solution looks like all of us— in bits, floating wisps of white pollution What’s wrong doesn’t drown us We are doing dead man’s float except for grandpa My sister arrives with the breakfast vouchers I get whatever I want before I figure it won’t be out of pocket I would pay for anything today even though I’ve been on boiled beans and rice for weeks had no choices to make about money Her and cousin Jer come back from the buffet with full plates laughing about something Jeremy gets on the phone calling our younger cousins to join us We all eat as much as we can  . . .