in a recent dream
he calls like he used to
when he was proceeding toward
death
in real life
but i don't answer his
calls instead i just wake at 2
and there in the darkness is
a vapor of a bad taste
he once texted
me at 2 in the morning
in june of that year
the year
he wrote ::what did I do
did i do something?
that you don't call me
why doesn't my brother call?::
fuck it
the spade still comes months later
across the head in
a booming blow at 2 a.m.
he calls again the next night in my dream
and i don't answer it except with a sigh
and a throwing-off of blankets
and shaky stumble to the kitchen
this is me running away
from the flock
of ghosts
that have come out to feed lately
until i am told
perhaps i should answer his
calls
to know what he wants
i took pictures of
him on Father's Day of the year
several of him and mom and dad
and i'm in a couple too
in my dream next night
i answer his call
and one of the pictures
floats out of an ether
of him aiming his cell phone at me
to take a picture of me
aiming my camera at him
and our mother
i say Hello? when he calls
and the picture lingers
he doesn't say anything
but i hear our mother
Andy
she says from the phone
He calls me 'Mumma' now
He hasn't done that for years
and the call is lost
the phone goes dark
and i sleep for the
first time in a week
today i found the picture
i took
and i looked at it with
cold eyes
in it, he's showing her how to
take a photo with his phone
my mother ignorant of
the workings of technology
the same phone he
used for taking pictures
of clouds in those
last days
his pallete
once paint and
chisel and stone
and drums
became a phone
through which he could
communicate what that
mind of his was figuring out
i have the cloud
pictures
and i dream of my brother calling
and i answer it now
i've not been good
at reaching out to
my loves
for fears and for pains
i don't call my mother
or father
as much as i should
i am stopped by shades of ghosts
he calls me at 2 now
in that dream and
i answer it
assured
i think he
means to call her
and dials me instead
i think he means for me to call
mumma
Thursday, February 4, 2016
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mumma
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Speechless.....your grief is overwhelming.
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