Wednesday, August 05, 2015

A New Ok

We sit at
the round table.
chatter about what
I should be eating
and formulate
strange adventures in
nutritional chemistry for her.

I gobble at the thawed meal
that was delivered in the
early afternoon before she
and I left for her chemo.

I grumble.I rage at those
uppidy pretenders;
but we are
sitting at the same table.
And many would say
we are conversing.

This poem was published here:


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