a two-sided notebook paper
rant dedicated just to me.
Tag: family
for jack
he loves deeply
is feral-angry
cries rivers
healing.
there is no rhythm to the remembering, / no time or space or elaborate calling
the shift: the kids are back in school.
The interior of our childrens schools feel other-wordly now, dare we place a toe over the treshold.
the other mother
Her snail’s pace is patience, thrumming
through the rooms where I try to exist.
For Him.
It all happened in an instant, just like the lightning rush.
postpartum
it took a year for it / to die, shelled and / alone in a far corner of / the unkempt living room.
sustainability
i’ve grown feral.
reasons I exist
a fire / a trough / a pill
sometimes our children are the stabilizers.
The key chain from the aquarium sat at the other end of the kitchen table. I watched the blue-dyed water and the turtle inside shake, each time he sunk into his chair and wriggled, refusing to read an assignment.
Magic Mama 