In Honolulu, There is a Widow
- Jean Shields Fleming
- Jul 2
- 2 min read
A poem by Jean Shields Fleming

In Honolulu, there is a widow
who has been diagnosed with something, though she doesn’t say what.
She says she needs money.
I’m sure this is true.
We’ve all been there, haven’t we?
And that big payday bonus that they want to give me? I hope
it really is imminent, as they say it is. And what about the prince
who wrote to me from Africa! I never expected such an honor,
being from the Midwest originally. We don’t mix much with royalty there,
unless college athletes count. So it surprises me, in the tinny opera
singing full voice from my spam folder, when I see this:
Occasionally my own name appears on the from line, and I wonder
what drama have I entailed myself in now? I hope I’m reaching out
on behalf of a friend in need, appealing to your better angels, the part
of you that wants to believe, against all odds, that goodness will prevail.
The part of you that knows that we ourselves, we are the goodness.
But even if I tug at your plaqued heartstrings, even if my words
make you twinge with something you long to feel, make you see your life writ large
on the grand stage of All Life, even if what I say unlocks a lost chamber
where memories you thought you’d forgotten smile up at you,
even then, my advice is this:
Don’t click. Delete me.
Cast me into the ghost realm
of your trash, a binary blip easily dispensed with.
Because surely I mean to scam you.
I’m a writer after all.
I can make you feel another’s feelings with a twist of the pen.
So yes, delete me. Right away. That’s the sensible thing.
I’ll linger in the bardo between inbox and ether
for 30 days, then be gone forever.
That me, that is.
Because, if I know anything about myself, it’s this:
I will return, undeterred in my quest to expose your kindness.
I believe in your generosity. I know you to be a good
and compassionate being, and before long, I’ll be back,
palms out in supplication, asking for more.
Jean Shields Fleming is the founder and editor-in-chief of Certain Age. She is the author of Air Burial, a novel, and her work has been published widely. Read an excerpt of her latest novel, All the Reasons Why.
Image:
Rainbow over Honolulu by little plant
Love the surprising direction this poem takes. Bravo!
My husband were just talking about how our our inboxes have exploded with spam these past few days. And then I read this brilliant poem. Wow!
Wow! So relatable. And a little twist. I adore your clever mind!! Thanks so much.
...better angels. I heard Mr. Lincoln sigh.
I love the whole piece, but especially the last passage...I’ll be back, palms out in supplication, asking for more.