Mother Americana
[Warmup line for no baby blubbering]no background noise whatever but midnightcowboy, a dank sense of vernacular:that Americana myth of motheringI plagiarized [every hint of love]the rough kind, the dirtiest, sparkling slitsin the diamond eyes of the maker, starstuffin the god sky, flat hand to assat the backsassing articulationof my needs, inherited all of that—[less the sheen] I’m still a decent mother.
Too Much the Night
I eat too much, conventional sagespreach. Not what I consume, say others, butwhat I’ve invited in, I can’t let go.That mama whale now famous for carryingher cub, dead on her back for weeks, as ifshe alone were responsible for passageto the afterlife. Psychopomp mama.Ferrying mama. Excess + Hoarding. Loversholding hands beneath the covers—onlyone hiding the death secret in her belly.Her body a burying ground. An underworld.
The…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, July/August 2023