Poetry Dispatch Nr. 255 | October 22, 2008
I Thought I Had Confessed Everything…OCTOBER
by Donna Balfe
October is my best month:
And I’m living it up again in Indiana, driving the back roads,
storing up images for winter, for emergencies, times of tragedy
or sadness, for the final illness—for dying. But in October
I never think about dying. It would be wrong to die in October,
there is so much to do. I’m a kid again with my grown-up
We scour the county in her pick-up, windows down, twanging
songs at the top of our lungs and laughing while we search out
asparagus, teazle, milkweed, cattails, sumac, and bittersweet.
My depression is in remission, and I am the big believer in life.
How long can this present last.
How long can the present last?
The first week in October is like late summer. I’m making
and breaking schedules, going a little crazy trying to categorize,
organize, prioritize, arrange my affairs. I resort to bar graphs
and pie charts…my life is a statistical nightmare. I buy
a Franklin Planner and spend the second week transferring
phone numbers, insurance information. I list blood type, dress
and glove sizes of next of kin, identify special dates
and deadlines. I create the master plan of my life.
David reminds me that we have a computer program
that does it all.
from THE LAST HOUSEWIFE IN AMERICA, Cross+Roads Press, #19, 1997
“…another in the series that will appeal particularly to women… Donna Balfe takes readers through a year of moods, challenges and reflections.” – Harris/ADVOCATE
more on Donna Balfe can be read here…
(out of print) limited number of archived copies only. | 1997
25 Euro incl. shipment world-wide
50 Euro incl. shipment world-wide for a signed copy.
If you are interested in buying this book please go here…