Today’s flower is the iris. Its
purple-striped tongue sticking out
at me. My back won’t work now that
I’m up to de Tocqueville. Jack Lemmon
on Channel 5 has Christmas with his
eggnog. Every day but this day
we sit outside. The occasion –
a twinge of pain back left quadrant
of my neck. I’m due for something
horrific. The click of the throat
as the water is drunk. “Goodbye,
Don.” “Goodbye, Kurt.”
