Repair & Maintenance
by Preeti Vangani

  1. My father euphemizes going to poop as Vacation, an average trip
  2. inside is thirty-five minutes like a nice spa for my body
  3. he says unless his phone rings inside & it is an aunt’s son’s
  4. friend’s uncle’s cousin enquiring about the what, why, how
  5. what now, where of a certain cancer & through the bathroom door
  6. like his favorite song I can hear him croon names of hospitals
  7. rehearsed, doctors memorized by first names & specializations &
  8. a chorus of cures as if treating cancer is his long-forgotten hobby
  1. Come stay with us, we’ll fix together he says; this body trapped
  2. in your mouth, chest, lung, stomach, colon. Then pauses & paces
  3. in a prison of his own inadequacies trying to make redemptions
  4. for what he lost, as if a stranger’s life lengthened is my mother
  5. being reincarnated, as if becoming a bed & breakfast for cancer
  6. is him injecting grief with a dose of morphine, as if hosting demons
  7. that took Mumma away is my father testing his voice like a tourist
  8. at the edge of an echo point whispering I tried I tried I tried
Packingtown Review – Vol.11, Spring 2019

Preeti Vangani is an Indian poet and essayist with an MFA in Writing from the University of San Francisco. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in The Bombay Review, Public Pool, Juked, Lines+Stars and Knicknackery. She has performed her poems across India, New York, Chicago and more recently at local San Francisco events, including Voz Sin Tinta and Kearny Street Workshop.

  1. John Timothy Robinson
    Coral Iart