Poetry

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What if no one besides my motherwants to be my mother—I don’t resent her for answeringthat she would not do it over.We were standing by the electric stove,over fried rice or spaghetti pancakes.Some things did not come easilybetween us. Not touch, no longerthe grip of her skirt tight in my fistclimbing the stairs into darknessafter …

My long poem barked like a dogWore an orange madras headdressRefused to change the light bulb. My long poemWould not weep. Lilies begone, sweep your wiltedBirthday selves like balloons dragging the lakeFor a child. Sweep your pitiful blue angelsBack into their chimney.The foundation has soot like satin. My unfooting Begins thus. Scars begin movingOf their …

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