two earthquakes precede the death
of the famous poet like a struck drum.
widely read & beloved by most &
widely derided by those who wished
they’d sold more books—in one poem
she buries a one-eyed cat in the earth
& writes—she thought she’d give it back—
i read her to children who wanted to die
& in those moments they wanted to die
a little less. what more could a poem
possibly offer us? the ground trembles
when she leaves.

. .