An Eccentric Iii Poem by Morgan Michaels

It took just a while to conclude
she lived on a pension that
couldn't support a cat,
and SSI, of course, so when we went monthly
to Tir Na Nog, I paid.

A doctor suggested her warfarin
for atrial fibrillation.
'Thanks for your recommendation',
she haughtily replied, 'but I'll take no rat's bane
and what's more, mean to outlive you! '

So she made due with aspirin,
dying at home, near ninety, years later.
Each time we parted
annoyingly, she'd say 'see you later, alligator',
People cling to their idioms, I guess.

She was cremated. At her memorial, uptown,
leaning my arms on an odd upsurge in the linen
I asked my table-mate, her cousin Ellen
where the ashes were. 'You're leaning on them, '
she replied, a bit taken back.

And so I was. Over them leaning 'See
'See you later, alligator',
I said- and then again, 'see you late',
adding 'nice to have known you- '
and so it was.


*Tir Na Nog: the name of an Irish restaurant, meaning 'The Land Of Dreams'