Glen Armstrong
Every day, Sister fills a new aquarium
and watches fish for a
while.
She builds a shopping mall and watches
the shoppers while sipping an
Orange
Julius from a bench near the food court.
The world’s bubble and whir
still interest
her.
She builds a church and steeple
with her own
hands,
reconsiders her faith, applies lotion . . .
She watches a movie on Turner Classics
where the heroine wears a mink
stole,
its little face frozen in pain, its mouth
open, still awaiting a
pill.