The problem with wishes
is that anyone can make them.
On her last day alive, she
proclaims, I want the world
to become an orange, with skin
so hard nobody can access its
golden treasures by way of bit,
blade or begging. A hard swallow.
She continues. But before that,
a pie! I want a pie to strike
this nation with a crust of fire
and a filling of ice. And every
child of God who ever stopped
calling or writing their righteous
mothers will finally feel shame
we could never teach.
A final gasp. And let my last
words before joining an eternal
choir of praise in paradise
be a whisper in God’s ear,
a show of appreciation and
word of advice to His design.
With that, her soul departs so fast
it would have knocked Jesus’
family aside on their way to Egypt.
Then in the morning, from
Christmas to New Year’s and
beyond, the grave dancers guild
develops restless leg syndrome,
kicking under tables and blankets,
unaware they’re missing their number.
Chad Parenteau hosts Boston’s long-running Stone Soup Poetry series. His work has appeared in journals such as Résonancee, Molecule, Ibbetson Street, Pocket Lint, Cape Cod Poetry Review, Tell-Tale Inklings, Off The Coast, The Skinny Poetry Journal, Crossroads, dadakuku, Nixes Mate Review and The Ugly Monster. He has also been published in anthologies such as French Connections, Sounds of Wind, Reimagine America, and The Vagabond Lunar Collection. His newest collections are All's Well Isn't You and Cant Republic: Erasures and Blackouts. He serves as Associate Editor of the online journal Oddball Magazine and co-organizer of the annual Boston Poetry Marathon. He lives and works in Boston.
