At the beginning of her last month

At the beginning of her last month

At her request, I took her to Tijuana

In a last desperate attempt to kill

The runaway cells that were filling her lungs.

 

We landed and got in a van with some others

And took a circuitous route finally through a tunnel

Under a rail berm,

Bypassing the border checkpoint into that city.

 

Paying the $250 fee, she went in for

A coffee enema. I think that was it.

 

I sat in this office with a smooth guy

Who said he was so sorry he couldn’t do more for her.

I was looking out the window at this fountain

With cracked concrete showing rebar and chicken wire,

And said, “you’re a fucking jackal.”

 

The trip back was the reverse of the one coming.

We were almost too late for the flight back.

I ran ahead to get them to hold, and got the feeling

They had seen this before.

 

She came slowly, thin, with a scarf covering her head,

Bald from the chemo. She smiled at us,

Giving a flash of her once great beauty.

 

This is how I remember her.