ONJ

            On the death of Olivia Newton-John, 2022

You called her Ahhn-J, a mash-up of her initials.
She called you Kace, a truncated version of yours.
Did you know your BFF died in August, age 73?
Her daughter Chloe stayed close, all through
her long fight with cancer. Maybe she’s with you
now. Does everyone in heaven know these things
before we do? I’m assuming there’s a heaven.
Assuming you reside there.
                                                    Remember when
you moved to that fancy apartment overlooking
the golf course? ONJ scurried over to check out
the new place, congratulated you on leaving
your mom’s house. Close, you shopped together,
compared notes about men. Shared a fast train
to fame. You and ONJ ruled—beside Streisand,
Reddy, Tennille, a few others—as the most
celebrated female vocalists of your time.
                          Forgive me if I’ve upset you
with this news. Do you have internet? I found
the report of her death online and a few articles
about her life and career. I’m sorry.
They didn’t mention you at all.

       from Letters to Karen Carpenter and Other Poems