Missing Persons

God and Mother

went the same way.

          *       *       *

What's a person to us

but a contortion

of pressure ridges

palpable

long after she is gone?

          *       *       *

A thin old man in blue jeans,

back arched, grimaces

at the freezer compartment.

          *       *       *

Lying in the tub,

I'm telling them—

the missing persons—

that a discrepancy

is a pea

and I am a Princess.