Because no matter the finery she wears
she can’t do anything to shake her past

Because she can’t seem to shake her past
she’s like a long scar in a formal dress

Because she trusts the zodiac to run her life
she drinks according to the stars and constellations

Because she drinks according to stars
she counts herself wise as she downs 80-proof misery

Because she knows the strength of the stock she came from
she can share laughter even while possessed by sorrow

Because she can laugh even while she cries
she can speak to him gently, she can speak of him tenderly

Because she knows the definition of grace
she can break bread and be merciful with strangers

Because she can break bread with strangers
she feels the air around her pulse with laughter

And I, the scribe of each new declaration
tells all over tall pints and warm fires

as everything and everyone are startled alive
rumors and revelations find themselves told.

Tobi Alfier is a disabled poet. Her credits include Arkansas Review, The American Journal of Poetry, Gargoyle, James Dickey Review, Jerry Jazz Musician, Louisiana Literature, ONE ART, Permafrost, Prosetrics, Ragaire, and Washington Square Review. She is co-editor of San Pedro River Review (www.bluehorsepress.com).