A collection of four poems

I sat drunk at Dante’s tomb 2 weeks before
you died asking him what to do
how to be better
even from my self-imposed exile
the lady behind me laughed as I asked silently
for an answer


the smell of Jolen cream bleach on yr
upper lip still stings my eyes
almost three years after yr


found a polaroid of the dog
on the couch the summer
before you died
those are your legs
the dog lies on
no human face only human legs
immobile dualistic
the mind already gone to some other place


sometimes I run my index finger over my thumbnail
to feel the anemic bumps— 
though nothing compared
to your nails
I am able to convince
myself for a second that I am holding
your hand 


Allison Grimaldi-Donahue is a writer, translator and editor.  Her work has appeared in The New Inquiry, The American Reader, Metatron, tNY Press EEEL and Lunch Ticket.  She is fiction editor at Queen Mob's Teahouse and associate translation editor at Drunken Boat.   She is a PhD candidate at the European Graduate School.

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