Antihistamines

by

11/10/2005

Bedford Ave & N 10th St, Brooklyn, NY 11211

Neighborhood: Brooklyn, Williamsburg

They say she’s holed up like a squirrel, nuts

to last the winter, glimpses of green bath-

robe when she shuffles down the hill

to her mailbox to collect more

rejection. People start laying bets,

perhaps she has a corpse hidden like,

what’s her name, was it Emily?

Maybe she’s taken a bad spell, some female kind

of thing. No, they have stuff to take for that

nowadays. She tucked away in October, some failure

in communication with her child, heart failure, but it keeps

on pumping bad through those tight veins. So tight they bulge

blue, blue like a Jaguar some boyfriend had forty years ago,

never let her drive it, too unstable he said. She wishes she

had driven it off a cliff, save the trouble now of figuring out an

out.

*

She squirrels antihistamines in her cheeks, hides them

under the mattress, forgets to take the medications that keep her

from being allergic to herself. She thinks about her child, seed

destroying her heart, who does not want to talk, see her, just

blame her for whatever erodes her own core. They don’t know details,

just that the woman is hibernating, saving herself the same way that forty-year-old blue Jaguar is on

display down at the Jag showroom. She has her own thoughts

about cats and the damage they do, thinks stepping into a cage with a tiger would be less painful than heartache she cannot stop.

*

She might as well be a bear. Come spring, come spring

permeates that slow mind. She might as well be a bear.

They prepare their offspring to be alone.

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