Sunday, March 5, 2017

Kerri Shying R # 17 - Birthing/deathlings/in-between


when you are the mother you must remember  not to send a facebook message
after ten pm in case the child is horizontal
with a consort and the phone installed with messenger goes beep or chirrup
bringing on the deep red face  you will not want to speak with
come the morn

when you are the mother you must stand in the hazy middle distance to
reflect what that substance   that seems so perfectly
moreish   and the ideal treat    sentinel from a long lost world
will do to them    should it by some dumb luck
lay you waste for good

when you are the mother the mother you will stay
they say   you might believe it  but it slips away
as fast as the static builds up on
nylon undies 

 the desire to be autonomous anonomous
   the windmill by the zeiderzee
running  up a loch in Scotland 
mother is as mother be’s


I said that he had died my mother said to me
“what is it with your friends”

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