October 2020
Bio Note: I have had the great fortune of having traveled a bit when I was younger which led to some
life-changing meetings. One of the people I met 42 years ago is a member of this community. On the same trip I met
the sister of the man who is the subject (or object) of these poems. I met him 4 years later. He was a beauty of a
human being and even led me to a love of Vegemite due to its positive associations with him. Another fortuitous
meeting has been with Alan Walowitz, with whom I have co-written a book — In the Muddle of the Night — due
out from Arroyo Seco Press eventually.
No Ideas
“No ideas but in things”
— William Carlos Williams
A shattered cologne bottle.
Your workshirts repurposed as teddy bears.
A discarded flask with a worn engraving.
A box of letters on thin blue paper.
The shirt I wore the last time I saw you.
The whiskey you drank,
still hard to swallow.
Originally published in The Fox Poetry Box
Communion
He ghosted me everywhere, like Jesus appearing on toast, I elevated him and found him popping up when I least expected it – in songs or scents – in a bearded man similar in appearance. When he dis- appeared I despaired and prayed, drank wine like water, held his ashes like relics, and doubted they could be the body, wafer thin, I broke bread and hoped to make him whole again.
Originally published in Sheila-Na-Gig
©2020 Betsy Mars
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