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Q10ueenly, she half-smiles. I pose her
U1nder the patio umbrella, sweltering August.
I1mperious, she gestures toward the rubied letters,
X8’s & O's aimed at her son—air kisses to embarrass
O1r needle me. She pushes my buttons,
T1ipsy with her third gin & tonic.
I1n the photo, her hair could be her own.
C2hemo, though, has shaved her eyebrows clean. |Q|U|I|X|O|T|I|C|—
A1 windmill before her, armed with L&Ms & Beefeater,
B3ravely she charges. Two Hundred Forty-Eight!!
I1n a reverie now,she’s thoroughly snockered:
N1ow try to top this, college brat!
G3arrulous, voice still hoarse from the radiation,
O1ut of the bag she draws her new letters. A hiss & a grin.
Introduction
Something of Us to Prove Our Afterlife: Notes on “Ochre”
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements