Jenny, when she is sick
is grumpy and pathetic, she texts
for chicken soup and Nyquil while snarfing
small homeopathic granules, fait will cure all.
she walks a block as the sun settles in for a night's rest
and calls it a day, having left voice messages for four,
no voices anymore, apparently not even email
according to the New York Times, sometimes not
even a voice mail is allowed, only a page.
on to Gemini from Apollo, or maybe Moon,
or maybe a few pages from Out Stealing Horses,
surely the conviction that tomorrow she will be
all better, just in time for the government
Casablanca: A City Nothing Like the Film
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