Thursday, April 10, 2014

Second Poem for National Poetry Month


“Have a cup of tea, Madame Bovary,”
she says, poking fun at Flaubert’s doctor
to remind me life doesn’t care
about minor tragedies, funerals of love.
Life doesn’t even slow down for a look
when the big black cars lead
the procession from the chapel.
Traffic only halts long enough by law
to keep the grieving concentrated.
No consideration for stragglers
who must fight rush hour
like everyone else and hope
they make it before the last amen.
“Just make it hot and put lots of sugar in,”
she says with a practiced mourner’s smile.

Published in Heart’s Migration (Tia Chucha Press) by Linda Rodriguez

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