Weekend

This is a "found" poem that I made out of an email from a friend named Margaret when she explained why she’d missed our annual Poetry and Stout party. Her email was so pitiful I decided to try to cheer her up by making it into a poem.


My memories
I'd been looking forward to the party... but
instead ..Snapshot, freeze-frame

Mila in various poses,
vomiting on Chris and me
(all weekend, except for a really nice walk in the cemetery yesterday)

Once I couldn't actually see her,
but could hear her
as I watched the remains of her scrambled egg dinner spewing dramatically across the bathroom,
onto her father's jeans
and the remainder in a Jackson Pollack arc
on the white-tiled wall of the shower.

See you soon,
...if we ever make it out of here