Jocelyne Dubois: Two Poems

Solitude

The lady upstairs is old & speaks Polish

I visit her once a week

she points to bruises on her leg

from a fall

she shows me pills—seven bottles

I talk simply & slowly to her

she understands my words

I can’t make out

what she says to me sometimes

photo albums in her bookshelf

she takes one out

& shows me

daughters

great grandchildren

great great grandchildren

well groomed smiles

She brings me her phone bill

sixteen calls to Texas

“They say I love you, I love you”

Christmas card from her family

propped up on her kitchen table

unsigned    

*

Skinned

Nurse, nurse, who makes me swallow pills

& calls me names behind my back

my sin, thin

brain, broken

I will stand in silence

thick skin around me

breathe deep

& grateful for not being in her skin

 *

Jocelyne Dubois is a Montreal artist, author and poet. Her novella World of Glass (Quattro Books, 2013) was a finalist for the Quebec Writers' Federation Paragraphe Hugh MacLennan Prize for Fiction. Her poems and short stories have been featured in a variety of literary journals.  ...  about Jocelyne Dubois  ... about World of Glass