Missing Persons

God and Mother went the same way. *       *       * What's a person to us but a contortion of pressure ridges palpable long after she is gone? *       *       * A thin old man in blue jeans, back arched, grimaces at the freezer compartment. *       *       * Lying in the tub, I'm telling them— the missing persons— that a discrepancy is a pea and I am a Princess.