would join me
in my booth,
though she was my waitress,
and tell me how her pelvis
and 8 month fetus
were crushed
9 years before
by an Aussie semi.
How could she bear
the endless pain?
With pills.
She kept working out,
and held down two jobs,
till the cops
came to Izzy’s
to investigate
her death
which was
homicide or suicide.
Either the drugs killed her,
she killed herself,
her boyfriend killed her,
or she’d been dead since the semi
but took 9 years
to admit it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem