From “Underworlds”

i

The last time I lost you, I had turned

To salt. The hospice nurses all assured

An easier passing this way, so I laid

My body down beside your confusion

Of bird bones and cradled you, crooning

Lies it’s okay Love you can let go I

Understand sweet as a lullaby, my

Most convincing poem, my masterpiece, my

Hand on your chest, my lips against your ear,

I sang you expertly from this world. I choked

On every bullshit syllable, but choked

In secret, turning the unruly mind

From the tongue’s betrayal, my steady voice

The only part of me not made of tears.

ii

Because you couldn’t even find your way

To the grocery without your GPS,

Because you’d fret your soul might go astray

When finally it drifted from your flesh,

We made a plan: you’d linger near and flare 

Your spectral presence through the fireplace,

The winking chandelier, the door ajar—

All the standard ghost shenanigans.

And though I spun this scheme to calm your fear

What fell astonishment to find I cannot sense

You anywhere: the lights undim, the fire 

Unflickers, I hauntless drag my chains

Of solitude from room to room, worse horror

Than any poltergeist, and ghostlier

iii

Dawn’s cold postmortem: how to measure up

What death has taken finally from us?

It stole away your        , the slow drip

Of docetaxel blasting your robust

            , left you listless and resigned.

The Lupron laid to waste your ardent            ,

Myself unhusbanded before my time.

The tumors in your skullbones took your ,

And then your            , and your baritone

                  , the cruelest dispossession

Until morphine gently claimed your

    and you couldn’t

And I couldn’t             your final

or your final