The Starkey Flythe, Jr., Memorial Prize Winner:
Susan Craig
Honorable Mentions:
Mary Alice Dixon and Vivian Bikulege
Half a Chance
From pelvic wing to cervical spine, the surgeon guides us through my sister's scan,
points out clustered tumors like agriturismo vineyards.
He gravely pronounces her scanty odds, his small office
with dun grass cloth, skewed medical credentials— and
what do we do then but murmur thank you,
depart with our practiced politesse.
We drift to a Mexican haunt for yolandas, bowl of chips, salsa so spicy
our eyes water, iced tea with extra lemon—
my sister takes a call from a chemo nurse she gently calls Angie,
while I ponder all the things that will kill us, given half a chance— viral outbreaks,
stray bullets, one false step on a staircase— breached levees, tornados,
wounds turned gangrenous, hydroplaning, ground-war invasion.
We finish in silence, then flirt with the handsome young waiter,
we women old enough to be his abuelas— we leave our last yolandas unfinished.
On the table, we have left the most extravagant tip.
Through the windshield, the sunlight is as blinding as every July.
Judge’s Comment:
I thought the author did a great job with details, details from the doctor’s office to the Mexican restaurant. These details gave me a true understanding of the experience. I also liked the way the author navigated me into the lives of the poet and the poet’s sister. The poet provided me with a full sense of what they are like and how they reacted to the terrible news the sister received about her cancer. Finally, for me, the seriousness of the cancer news the sister received meshed perfectly with the small bits of humor spread through the poem.