8.9.12

Miss Bunburry's next in line for the cremation bin.



The cafe was filled with people afterward.
I told you it was what she would have wanted.
He looked at the waitress over my shoulder
'we'd like some pie.'Then the waitress was in front of me and saying
'I'm sorry, we're all out of pie right now.'
Antony tried to smile.
'That's alright,'
I said,
'I'm not so hungry anyhow.'

The truth is I'd been eating cereal
like it was bubble gum.
'We've got brownies,' she said.
'that's fine.' said Antony
'just coffee.' I said

Outside there was a little wind and an old man working at cleaning the windows.
I watched him and not Antony as we talked and his hands were like those on a copper statue,
rubbed back to their original shine while the rest grows green and dark like a Siamese fire drill.
We could see his face from inside as the people walking past called out to him like tobacco.

Antony stood
when the family came in,
walking quickly like a black beehive.
He joined them at their table to
give some kind of
canned tuna condolences.
It felt like the morning news
and I had to be outside.

The wind had stopped
but the bronze statue was still polishing
his hands on the cafe glass
as I stood and watched him.
Finally he rested his hands on the top of the step ladder
and turned to look at me,
waiting.
But i stood watching him in silence.
'Well?' he said.
'No' I took a step forward,
'you're doing just fine.'
he smiled but looked sad and I continued.
'you're on it.' I said,
'You haven't missed a spot
in all your goddam life.'


A dad hurried his daughter past me.


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