finch

first of all...thank you to everybody who posted in my last journal!! 22 comments!! that's incredible!

second of all, if you haven't looked at my new tattoo pics...go and look, now

last but not least...journal poetry day, yo.

so nobody asks later...yes i wrote it.

Wishing She was Artemis

Id have to describe every day

(the August afternoon his skinny arms refused
to find the strength to start the stubborn lawn mower;
the September birthday celebration we promised
would be re-done when the chemo started working;
the October evening he slurred I have to pee
even though the catheter drained his bladder)

for you to see how death looks.
The picture isnt pretty:

a skin-covered skeleton sprawled on the living
room couch, eyes and mouth slightly ajar
as if to give the tiny sobbing woman hope
maybe her tears will fall into his eyes
and like a Disney-movie-miracle, he will be
mowing the grass, blowing out birthday candles,
closing the blue bathroom door.