I.
I haven’t spoken to my brother in ten years.
His brain was slammed in a car accident,
never got any therapy because dad didn’t believe in it.
Somehow he came into some money
and spent it on surplus military vehicles,
which he leases to Hollywood from time to time.
II.
When my dad’s appendix burst, he didn’t know it,
tried to kill the pain with bourbon,
finally phoning me in delirious distress
and I called the ambulance.
My sister wouldn’t let the paramedics in.
The police came with a megaphone,
busted down the door.
III.
I hadn’t spoken to my alcoholic mother in 13 years
when a stranger called and said she was dying.
I flew to Chicago and spent the afternoon
at her comatose side telling her body
what I’d been doing for the last 13 years.
She died the next afternoon
while I was out getting a sandwich.