Poem: Ways and Plans

Ways and Plans


He spoke to his mother’s corpse
through his sister’s cell-phone.

She sat with the body,
ten minutes too late to watch

the death. He leaned on the bathroom
sink in the back of the stockroom

in the dark. She set the phone 
on speaker. He mewled

apologies through the air,
noise became his voice.

She cooed and shushed
and made sounds for consolation.

He washed his face, raked his hair,
considered travel, ways and plans.

She sat in an office chair
with the body for an hour more.
___________________________________________________

First published in Boston Literary Magazine

Published by Brendan McEntee

Poet and critic living in New York near Long Island Sound.

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