sometimes in february

sometimes in february

all it takes is a small bent woman

in front of me in the grocery line

to bring tears.

and those are the good days.

i have come to know this month like a flame

insistent for my attention,

to dread this month like a cold

demanding the contents of my head.

i anticipate it.

i plan careful routines.

i force arrangements to combat it.

but yet every year

february kicks my ass

like a heavyweight--

licking cool whip from a punchy white plastic bowl.

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