Arlene Ang

Celebrating the Therapist

Dr Jones uses a pendulum

and tells us to avoid caffeine. A tape

keeps track of the sessions. Away from her office,

every moment calls for extra coffee.

I take mine with bourbon and the strong smell

of gasoline. Today Ramona

has a toothache. She cancels

all her appointments because of a dream

about burning vinyl records instead of books:

she still hasn't come to terms

with what she really wants in life.

I pat her hand and tell a knock knock joke.

Monty, her childhood friend,

lures our intimacy into a snapshot.

He's still votes Richard Nixon for president

because he's never gotten over

his first marriage with an arsonist.

We order fries with the olives.

And apple strudel---for courage.

They're not interested in hearing my prayer

version of the 7Up commercial.

We've got enough problems pinpointing

the exit door in case of fire.

So What If It's a Red Dress

It was mine. And

Stevie's parents are dead—

half their organs taken away with scrap iron.

I tell him he's to stay with me now.

I'm his closest relative.

He's safe, I say. I don't own a car.

Tomorrow we'll get him some boy clothes,

ones with Jolly Roger stickers

instead of pockets. Pirates bring back

the child in everyone. Things can only get better,

I tell him. We can afford it.

I still have the tree house where

his mother and I played before we grew

out of it. She left home; I fell.

One way to stop hurting is to live in the future.

Look, I say, this scar on my arm is

all that's left of that old wound—

a harmless relic, a bogeyman skeleton.

Arlene Ang serves as a poetry editor for The Pedestal Magazine and Press 1. A poetry collection, Bundles of Letters Including A, V and Epsilon, co-written with Valerie Fox, was published by Texture Press in 2008. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Ambit, Georgetown Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, Rattle, and Stand. She lives in Spinea, Italy. More of her writing may be viewed at www.leafscape.org