And when I stand
in the receiving line
like Jackie Kennedy
without the pillbox hat,
if Jackie were fat
and had taken enough Klonopin
to still an ox,


and you whisper
I think of you
every day,
don't finish with
because I've been going
to Weight Watchers
on Tuesdays and wonder
if you want to go too.

Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno

Mots clés poetry grief what-not-to-say

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