vignettes&vendettas

poetry and poets

Thursday, March 10, 2005

elegy for wendy jane doe



elegy for wendy jane doe
tony gallucci

i found out later you were only four
i thought you were much older
i kissed you
right there behind the counter at Wal-Mart i kissed you
and blew gently air into your lungs
and i counted to three
and i looked for the signs
and i kissed you again
and blew gently air into your lungs and i counted to three and i looked for the signs
and i kissed you again

Wendy, you must know this
your mom has no patience
she left fingernail cuts in my shoulder like a once upon a time lover
i didn’t know until that night when i took off my shirt to shower
you were one with some machine by then

before i kissed you Wendy i watched your mom explode a breath into your tiny lungs
and pound you like a broken toaster and your arms jerked up and your mom thought
it was a sign of life
and blasted again like you might try to blow up a balloon
that doesn’t want to be blown up

when i awoke this morning i just lay in bed and stared out the window
and i looked for signs the seasons were changing
and the leaves were beginning to fall from the trees
and i counted them
one . . . two . . . three . . .
until i couldn’t count anymore

in the morning paper they said you died from a quote lengthy illness unquote
they didn’t mention maternal instinct
or panic
or good intentions

Wendy, know this
good intentions is always an apology




Published in This Order, 1998
Published in Voices from the River, 1998
Broadcast on AustinUnScene.com, 1998
Broadcast on MTV, 1998