Gorgeous

Let's get one thing straight-
when I saw you on Tuesday
the first word
that came to my mind was
Gorgeous.
Not tired, or weaker
or bald or different,
though you were all of those things-
but first and most brilliantly,
Gorgeous.

In your life of lunches
and visits and car rides
it couldn't have been easy-
but there you were,
tying a scarf around your head
as if placing a sunhat
over the delicately arranged
grandma hair that
defined you for the years I've know you.
You gave me your jacket
for the still crisp Alexandria morning,
and we were on our way.

When we brought you
to the hospital
you pointed out the free coffee
(for patients and families of patients),
introduced us to your new friend
whose name I couldn't pronounce
and country I did not recognize.
You left us with the free coffee
and quietly disappeared into another room.

When you came back,
all pastels and smiles,
you told us how treatment
makes you feel like a pretzel,
and suggested a sandwich place
we could stop in on the way home.

And when we refused to take
the 20 dollar bill you waved
around the window into the place
you gave me this ridiculous,
eyebrowed look-
the silliest look I'd seen in a long time,
and one I would never, ever
expect from my grandma.
And even then you were
Gorgeous,
Striking beyond measure.

I'm

aching

for 

places

..

there must be

people

who

staple together

brochures

for their

scrapbooks

of

home

home

home

Bodyjesus

Bodyjesus
your soul in the sky
left a body
in our rubble-
like a great shoe,
we unshod children
walked in.

I thought there was something strange
but you were Jesus
so I looked twice-

Bodyjesus, your arms shouldn't bend that way
though better to reach behind your back,
your folded elbows make leather cups
that we cannot drink from
and the soft spot,
stretched and burnt by the sun-
do we not lose you even
in the dead shed cells of your skin?

Bodyjesus
you lost interest in the dewey grass,
elected to grow out your toenails-
they curled spiney around the pads
until they could not callous,
made it so that every soul
who comes to wash your feet
will cut his hands.

When you discovered
the many meters of intestines
just beneath your ribs
you pulled them out
and draped them over your arms
for the world to see,
Bodyjesus,

I saw you once
fling four of your own vertebrae
in a bout of rage-
you made new ones out of chicken wire,

assured me they were as good as new
but when you turn I can still see
the festering, fighting skin
in the small of your back.

When you feared the color blue
you went and bled your veins red,
When you hated what you saw
removed the eyes from your own head-
Could not hold your children
arms too full of daily bread,
Bodyjesus,

If your left hand was perfect
no one would notice,

Even the searching spirits
who wanted to be you,
they're shaking just to think-
What Would Bodyjesus Do?