The Sighs of Girlfriends

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I’ve lost a few things
Along the way.

The sound of my dad
When he laughed 
At Crazy Guggenheim
And cried at his
Suddenly sane and mournful
Crooning,
From the perch of his after hours 
Soft as putty chair
Which wore a tropical skirt
Come summer
As a floor fan hummed
Like a monastery 
And a block away
railroad train
Tumbled by 
like the night time surf
And Hans
The neighborhood 
Love struck dog
Howled at the moon

And I've lost
The scent of my mom
Who rehearsed her mournful day dreams
Behind the sentry of a locked door
As she misted herself 
With atomizers
Which sat like royalty 
On the court of a bedroom tray
In the heart of Queens
While the shiny knights of lipsticks
Protected the round table.

And I've lost
The grumbling of my sister
Who shared a wall divided room with me
Way past the 
Expiration date of propriety
Whose hormones attacked her like
incoming Kamikazes 
Which left her floating 
In a harbor of teenage debris.

And I've lost
The throttled silence 
of my grandmother
Whose sanity 
Had long ago
left the yard
With the crack of a bat
Which exiled her to 
The bleachers of 
Invisible mothers who
Had lost children too
Who were left to stare
at an empty field
Where no one
Ever came home.

And I've lost
The sighs of girlfriends
In their party dresses
And pixie cuts
Who years later
Happily removed those party dresses
Which landed like parachutes on their
Bedroom floors





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