MY MOTHER CAN’T HELP
MY MOTHER CAN’T HELP HERSELF
So how can she help me? sneers my 3 o’clock
She has many adult problems it’s true And
deep down inside she does love you
But like the Barbie’s in the playroom her babies are removable featureless
Made so by years in crack houses & motels where
smoke from the last fire poured under the bathroom
door Leaving you with an obsession for firemen & keys
__
*Grief studies have shown that the loss of a parent is akin to the loss of a limb
where the phantom limb continues to throb inexplicably
Winter 2013

