Monday, January 12, 2009


I dream of Suzie with the cellophane hair
colored green, or orange, or pink--
depending on the day of the week--
and a safety pin through her cheek,
her biceps brazenly angrily tattooed
red, purple, and blue;
none of them say "I love you."
She wears leather pants and black denim vest,
black t-shirt with skull and bones on the chest;
The toughness hides the girl's baby face,
confusion at life and innocent ways;
Every week she pays her grandmother a visit
at the dying cancer patient clinic;
Suzie sits for hours and listens
to tales of grandmother's bygone days,
which the old woman truly appreciates.
Afterward the woman's eyes glisten
as Suzie stomps down the hall,
in tough-girl boots awkwardly tall;
doctors and nurses jump out of her way
but smile to themselves as she leaves.

-King Wenclas

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