The Day After Thanksgiving

It is the day after Thanksgiving 
when some people rather stand in line 
at the store, instead

of the doctor’s office, where I shake 
the husband’s hand while the wife tells 
on him, where I listen to how

thankful my patient is 
for not going for the surgery 
to make her stomach smaller, 


where I sit with the father, the mother, 
the brothers and sister, and 
the sister’s partner, trying to convince

that the memory of the mother is gone, 
instead of staying in line, 
to buy a television at the store.