My father left a message one morning
in early March – they are all well, but there
is sad news: my best friend’s father had passed
that morning
Such unexpected show of tenderness:
one father bearing the news of the death
of another

I called my far away friend
and asked stupidly “how are you?”

I am a dragon, she said

Daughter of a mother dragon and father dragon,
what else could I be
You too are a dragon – as my friend
what else could you be
I said nothing

she mentioned that her former husband lost their son
The boy didn’t know yet
his grandfather was gone
carried out and away from the home he hadn’t
left in years. Nonetheless the boy took off evading
the news

I imagined the chase down the concrete
jungle and wide boulevards:
a nimble boy sprinting ahead
and the bad news following
puffing to catch up
unaccustomed to labouring

An hour later the superintendent came up to
remove water stains in the bathroom and
deliver a complaint
The new tenant below
is driven insane by us walking in high heels
she said
as if
this is a parlour where young girls
and their mothers
don miniskirts and flirt with drunken sailors
But everyone knows
we walk
in socked feet rather and
drunken sailors
don’t come up Yonge Street
this far

There is official letter in the office
two pages long
she said regretfully
She is obliged
to inform us

We may be evicted, I am guessing
but she hinted nothing
What does she do
I inquire –
our new neighbour
with sensitive ears
and poor insight
I don’t know, she said
she studies something or another
I suppose she doesn’t know yet
that one day she’ll die