My mother's death, seventeen today,
Tired of being an absence, insists
She needs a name of her own. (Also,
She would appreciate it if I'd think of her
Wearing a hat -- perhaps the one with a half-veil
My mother lost on the subway in 1956.)
My father's death, almost thirteen, suggests "Olive"
Which rather appeals to her until she realizes
He's probably thinking of Olive Oyl. She tells him no
And warns him to not even try suggesting
Tess Trueheart, Minerva Gump or Daisy-Mae Scragg.
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