In this my will and testament I leave
all worldly goods to spouse, through you to her,
in complicated trust we can't conceive
without the tax attorney's sinecure
and bill.She's one, our salvaged miracle,
her life a file of specialists' reports,
each scan and MRI an oracle
portending nothing: no flaw, no surge short-
circuiting her brain, no apparent why.
We budget urgent care and special needs,
ensure sufficient income should we die
together or, divorced, succumb to greed.
Asleep, our issue shudders in your arms.
I sign in triplicate against more harm.
From Does She Have a Name? (NYQ Books,2014)
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: child,disability,father daughter