"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



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

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