r h p
J e a n i e   T o m a s k o


I said I had to get up
because the gynecologist
at the monastery
was after me and you
went right back to sleep
to continue shopping
for a tie with your father
who’s been gone
seven years now.

I’m glad you’re happy
I half-smile to your ear as I
leave you again (now
likely whistling in that green
house you always dream about
with its odd brassy keys)
meaning it’s so not fair
the way you wrap your
right arm around my
still warm pillow,
even on Saturdays.