The Chair

Like the palm of a giant

Where I could always find you


New Yorker


on ice


That’s where I ran –

The bee sting on my toe

The bully, so mean

The nothing,

The quiet

My stringy hair between your hands and a kiss

goodnight –


10 yr old legs crisscrossed at the wrist

watching Gilda Radner, Sid Ceaser

I could not leave until I understood the best of the

best –


It can’t possibly be empty

though it is

Ottoman upside down

in the palm of the giant.



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