White Lipstick

talking to the dead

64 talking to the dead mona connie gave me your little fuchsia hat she wore it whenever she went on a plane i don’t remember you ever wearing it sometimes i picture you and mother sitting at the kitchen table smoking and drinking coffee mother working on crossword puzzles you doing your face all the makeup paraphernalia lined up in front of you on the plastic table cloth you trying on this color or that for your eyes or cheeks or lips always asking how does this look how about this one driving us crazy you did the same thing with clothes going on and on for hours i swear you tried on every friggin thing in that wardrobe mother and daddy gave you and every time you put something on you had to ask how does this look what about this and your hair my god that hair long honey-colored blond asking about this style or that 65 you drove us crazy but you were the one who had the breakdown at san francisco general you seemed more content less worried of course you were medicated the people you became friendly with in there were nice i liked the lady who worried about her son getting killed on a plane remember she got out and a few months later she and her family got killed in a plane crash all except her son goddam mona you were driving me crazy a lot of the time but you were fun remember when we sat up all night at jacks bar and talked through the night until morning the swampers were mopping the floors when we left it was the night before your cancer operation but that’s not what killed you it was a stroke it was because they put you in that recovery home with all those old people dying i think you gave up connie believes it too she says they killed you my god mona you were only 52 ...