The Nein of Eeyore

JENNY: Then the twigs rolled away and, well, out came Eeyore.

JENNET: Oh, Eeyore.

JENNY: Who upset the hell out of me.

JENNET: That's it about him, and those cheeks of eggplant hue. So he got to you as well—

JENNY: Look here, sister: this is real fur. Zero percent polyester!

JENNET: And, shrugged off your advances.

JENNY: Without even taking a step back.

JENNET: The droop of his shoulders, the arch of his spine . . .

JENNY: Oh, Eeyore!

JENNY & JENNET: "from the regions which/ Are Holy-Land!"

Your Work

wish it was mine
nights of ash and wishing it was mine

rubber shoes, grey against the
flank
of a tractor tire

almost in time for dew.

There's an old cat

In the old house, Gelman,
but you're not there . . .

I, sweeping the new house, you

Locking the newer, towns

away from the cat,
each other, the nearest pharmacy.

Far too old to want a knee, too

blind; how is leaving her
bowl white an end to this?