dear gd
dear gd gd of my ancestors of the people and places i come from and love there is a line of grief that runs from my tongue down to my stomach it presses close to my flesh it is grief that keeps gagging out of me grief that twists my stomach wet yarn soggy and heavy dear gd i know how we got here dear gd i hurt in all my joints i have felt it i think and i havent if it is silent for a moment i weep the night after the election i made mashed potatoes what else is there to do sometimes? dear gd, i find it hard to talk i find i don't have the time it takes to wait out the ball in my throat i want to talk, i really do it's just - i've been practicing dentistry this week staring into the mouth of hungry ghosts, and i have a headache that does not let go, then releases, then clenches, then -- ebbing and receding a tide of pain creep...
