Ron Gilbert CC
3 Sonnets from Adam’s Text Messages
from 2020 to Day He Died - March 12, 2022**
That book changed my life. Stirred something
inside me. Vintage Sweets heirloom navel
oranges. Boiled bread loaves. Money and
material things aren’t very important. Our
experiences and interactions with people
and animals really matter. Big food drive.
Praying it goes smoothly. 200 sandwiches.
Gave them a few bucks and some cold waters.
It’s made with polished seashells. I love you.
Quail laid eight eggs in a ceramic swan.
Happy birthday! Merry Christmas! Everyone
loves us. Walks almost every day. We grow
by helping others grow. Best I’ve tasted.
These moments have been the highlight of my days.
Broke up. Living on the street. Lauren took
car and apartment. Dad said, get all my stuff
out of his house. Something stupid. A mess.
He’d be drunk. Couldn’t take them any longer.
On street nearly a week. Moving around.
Chaparral Park. WinCo, bus stops. Book bag.
Pulling suitcase with clothes and food. I have
everything I need. Cold first few nights. They
were drunk every single night. Aye. Washing
clothes in garbage bags, hanging them at park.
24-hour WinCo bathroom. Washcloths
and soapy water. Need a shower. Stressful
times but haven’t smoked a cigarette. Good
to see what homeless people go through.
Mom, my phone has been dead. Might die
again. Not quite ready to go on another walk.
Thank you for the hotel and coming to church
with me. Cheered me up. Tiny bit of charge.
Where do you want to meet? Yes. Love you.
Moved out of Dad’s again. Living with friends.
Practicing rhyming singing dancing. Found
parts of the bible can be sung at different
tempos. I’ll show you next time I see you. Where
do they live, Adam? Are you still going to church?
I lost you on the call. I love you. Adam, I hope you are OK.
I love you. I know you will figure it out. If you could
check in to let me know you’re OK I would appreciate it.
Hi Adam, I am trying to reach you.
**Note: All words are from Adam’s text messages sent to me over the last couple years of his life, except the ones in italics, which are mine. They are grouped in a sort of timeline. ~SV
Susan Vespoli writes from Phoenix, Arizona. Her work has been published in Anti-Heroin Chic, Rattle, Nasty Women Poets: An Unapologetic Anthology of Subversive Verse, and others. Her poetry collection about addiction in her family, Blame It on the Serpent, is available from Finishing Line Press. All proceeds are donated to addiction support and recovery organizations. https://susanvespoli.com/
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