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Local Honey

                                    Jessie van Eerden


Grief hits my belly
I’m a bowlful of bees
My bowl of bees weeps     if bees can weep
honey out their eyes
clover honey     blackberry
I climb to Aunt Mavie’s porch
because she can stand grief
Cold beer in a pint jar
till dark     we sit
on the porch     a roller skate     dead leaves
electric butter churn missing a part
maybe a rat but moths
hog the light
She doesn’t smoke     I don’t ask
but she answers     Trying to quit
She says
I got the patch and now
I dream in blue and
I dream Mary Mother of God
ever since the tv special
on weeping Marys     statues across the world
Our Lady of Lima     Sicily     Syracuse
of the Sacred Heart in Platina Brazil
Tears of blood honey milk     they say 
tears of oil that heal
If pope says hoax it’s hoax     You can
go to trial if you say different
but     tell me     was the pope there
He don’t exactly live local
Blue Marys bawl in my dreams
Judy     what she crying for

but Aunt Mavie knows
and I know
sometimes you just cry

She says     Our Lady of Lisbon     across the world
Our Lady of right here Damascus
Your tears are local
Them bugs rising out the rye
Girl they’ll feed on you


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