Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Forgetting

Forgetting would be easier
than the generic Hallmark

that arrives late--
not even postmarked on time,
even though you drive by
a drop box every day,

and that arrives with no
handwritten note--
but which has your handwriting
for dad's signature, too, and my sister's,

and that arrives with the check--
happy birthday in the memo line,
a smiley face made from exclamation points--
because you can't think
of anything to give me--
because you've already given me
some genes, and I'm clearly
selfish
to want anything else.