i am here because i took a running leap onto a pillow, to slide down the hallway, then cut my chin, and now i need 3 stitches.

it’s not what you think

            Thank God says my

            grandmother on the phone, suddenly,

to someone unknown

            we can make it an afternoon if that’s better for you

            feel better now okay

it’s not what you think, though

everything’s fine - they’re just talking about a card game or maybe

a meeting of some kind, the cards came in so the plans are still on and she has to RSVP for the bat mitzvah of someone’s granddaughter but -

it’s not what you think, she was married before, so it’s really her step-granddaughter, but at this point, it doesn’t matter, his first wife has died, so this

is as good as it gets

and besides it’s the thought that counts?

but it’s not what you think.  You thought you’d get up early, go for a walk to the sink, try to cough up all the damage from last night but

it’s not coming out

it’s sinking in deep, holding tight to your heart till everything seems

like it’s not what you thought or it’s not what it should be

if you had only just stepped outside earlier, or tomorrow, or last week

and started walking some other direction,

where there are more green lights, less stop signs, or less caution tape or less calls from the sidelines to come in from the rain or

try something new that’s more safe.

it’s not what you think - it can’t be that great.  try a different pill, increase your dosage, give it time, just wait . . .

it will get better and in the meantime

help me vacuum

fold the socks