Sunday, February 10, 2008

Prayer for Christina Marie

Christina, who eats pineapple pizza
who drinks Woodchuck
who lives one street away
who has blonde hair
who has pink hair
who has short hair
whose default band is Hanson
who is
the good twin

Christina
Marie
Frigo
whom I share one name with

who just wants to write
space herself with the air
to breathe it in

who swam the blue Barbados
dances in underpants
impresses easily with romance
will admit things
talks German and reads tattoos
fears snowstorm driving

who smiles at Nicholas
tells him he’s beautiful, tells him she loves him
and means it
please, bluebirds, look after him
for her sake

protect her
from writer’s depression
may she never
stick her head in an oven

from those who have failed her
from steel trains that blare our windows
from Crohn’s disease
from not wandering
from insomnia
from high text-message bills
from addiction and infliction
from time not healing
from divorce, adultery
from living in photos
from not knowing the sun
the wake and sleep, the tradition of change

from cavities and root canals and tooth extractions and gingivitis

Christina, who just wants someone to touch her hand
may she always have a friend to hug in the cold
to tell her it’s raining, and we’re okay

may she always make snow
angels in her coat

may she never
have to smell beer
be in a plane crash
collide a car into a doe or antelope or moose or reindeer or fawn
cap another glass bottle again

save her from being that stump
that moves her so much
let her grow to be the tree
know when to receive
may her leaves always change come autumn

let her have a silo again
but with someone more right
this time

may she always write love poems
no matter if the man deserves

may her vizla, Andy, never suffer

bring some town, city, state or person
to make her feel she’s Home

cover her in tulips
taking photos of ants
climbing up grass blades

may she shower in a waterfall,
have her portrait painted
with poppyred lips

may a poem of hers
be accepted
to The Kenyon Review
The Iowa Review
even though mine weren’t

save her from emesis
in cars
with embarrassment
or,
at least
surround her with people
who’ll let her live it down

may she never work for State Farm Insurance®

1 comment:

Andrea said...

This is beautiful. So lovely.