Un poem 001

dear juanita

i
from you
all the things that the letter said were true
it was over we could both so clearly see
you from
me

in a car
driving through chicago in the hazy summer
i remembered those yellow bicycles
in sacramento and milan
where the wedding pictures were taken and
left in the bottom drawer of a desk under the window
you told me to jump out of one morning
i wasn't awake

pale yellow mercedes
one hundred and eighty kilometers per hour
falling asleep at the wheel
talking about abraham lincoln
explaining him to you
how fucking strange
that someone didn't know who he was

you disappeared
when i found you in a cafe
quietly flirting
with the entire room
you laughed at me
for worrying
i got you back
in the shower
before you moved in with the priest

and before you fucked shelby
he told me one morning
in a sacramento dive bar
the last city in which i ever saw
either of you
unlikely sister cities
milan and sacramento
i was living in san francisco
stole a car one night
a convertible
1965 Buick Special
white with a red interior
needed somewhere to go

your mother told me, allesandra
she needa college
no marry my allesandra
she needa college
she said that over
and over
while you were upstairs
with your little sister

it was seven am
hadn't seen him since milan
he called when he moved
back to the states
he called here the states
such the expatriate male model
that shelby
he said he would look me up sometime
but i looked him up first
at seven am
in a stolen car

i went running in naples
after we drove down from milan
to meet your family
she needa college
she needa college
running through my brain
running through your filthy naples
the shower was great
until rebecca reached inside the curtain
and let go of
that bird

i took him downtown
and made him
drink wild turkey
he told me he knew
about the bird in the shower
he asked me if i knew
about you two
he said he was sorry
but that he couldn't
help himself
you were so
beautiful

birds make greek boys like me
panic
too many omens --
aunt catherine
athens 1974
so many candles
i got scared
her wrist i pulled
into the shower
the bird flying around
her clothes wet
they came undone
and i
and she
and the bird

i could tell
that you were the
absolute conquest
of his life
we went swimming
in his pool later that morning
i asked him if he ever met
your little sister
he said no
then you don't know
about the bird in the shower
now do you?

it was so clever
the way you returned
my letter to me
crossing out your name
at the top
replacing it with mine
alex
the name that you gave me
your father showed me what you
wrote in the margins of his
dictionary
when you were
a little girl

crossing out my name
at the bottom
and writing yours
juanita
the name you gave yourself
in its place
i especially admired
the lack of a post-script
neat and clean, no fuss
that was you
juanita: god's gift to men
just like it says
in your papa's
dizionario