O Life Life Life
I yelled to the mohel’s knife

And day fades to mind: a purple
drugged on lush, sweet,
thick late summer.

This fact shamed, appalled, excited —
like some beautiful stranger one hunted when one was
      young,

He taught what fathers teach,
but not the dew and if

Ultimate, white-haired
bandaged at the eyes like judgement
you lie at the hospital stainless faucets and the pipes

Thus, a woman under the stars might have been you.

I want to wake her, run to greet her,
even if she were dead a hundred years
and showed herself as no more than a shadow

The river icy in the wind.
Jersey glinting from night’s amalgam. Neon shines
from the luminous, frosted window.

Suburbs shrill with Nintendo warriors.
Ten o clock: a queasy Pax Romana.
The ears of our mother's cancer over.

In bold black type among grayer headlines
All Time High—Maybelline Stock Hits 60,
Board Acceptance of Buyout Thought Likely.