bathroom telephones


Hello Friends,

I will never be able to look at a hotel room's bathroom telephone without thinking of Sherman Alexie and this poem. As indicated in the epigraph, this piece is a nod to Richard Wilbur's "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World" — which you can read here if you like — but you do not need to read Wilbur to appreciate Alexie.

Enjoy.
Ellen


Grief Calls Us to the Things of This World

          The morning air is all awash with angels...
          Richard Wilbur, "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World"

The eyes open to a blue telephone
In the bathroom of this five-star hotel.

I wonder whom I should call? A plumber,
Proctologist, urologist, or priest?

Who is blessed among us and most deserves
The first call? I choose my father because

He's astounded by bathroom telephones.
I dial home. My mother answers. "Hey, Ma,"

I say, "Can I talk to Poppa?" She gasps,
And then I remember that my father

Has been dead for nearly a year. "Shit, Mom,"
I say. "I forgot he's dead. I'm sorry

How did I forget?" "It's okay," she says.
"I made him a cup of instant coffee

This morning and left it on the table
Like I have for, what, twenty-seven years

And I didn't realize my mistake
Until this afternoon." My mother laughs

At the angels who wait for us to pause
During the most ordinary of days

And sing our praise to forgetfulness
Before they slap our souls with their cold wings.

Those angels burden and unbalance us.
Those fucking angels ride us piggyback.

Those angels, forever falling, snare us
And haul us, prey and praying, into dust.

Poems by Sherman Alexie were also featured for Poem-a-Day April 24, 2014, Poem-a-Day April 17, 2010, Poem-a-Day April 27, 2009, and Poem-a-Day April 24, 2008.

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