Breakfast At Tiffany's

The first time was a tiny glass elephant,

Opaque, yellow, absurd,

The size of an acorn,

Its itty-bitty trunk raised in

Minute salute.

I hid it in kleenex and

Gave it to my sister as a gift.

She delights in tiny things.

And then there was the bag of

Lemon drops.

Wrapped pretty,

Sugared eggs in a transparent womb,

A purple ribbon sweetly knotted round the top.

I thought of grass, of silver cups, of chamomile.

I ate them over three days.

I took two pairs of bedroom slippers

For my mother and me.

Mine are blue.

Hers are pink, because, she says,

Pink makes her feel feminine.

Her toenails are sad and small,

And she likes when we match.

I’ve seen two mugs at a thrift store

On Vine.

One’s a peanut with fat pink lips,

And the other is the head of a black boy,

With Sambo written across the top.

I think they’re funny, and

You would like the peanut, because of your allergy.
I’ll get them tomorrow, I think.

It strengthens me everyday—

The not hurting anyone.

I am full of love.

(2008)