Saturday, February 2, 2013


since when did i become this numb
my arm a-tingle
like a phantom
since when?
i’ll tell you

holding my mother in my arms
pulling pink cotton clothes off stiff arms and legs
dressing her for the pyre
wrapping her in a sheet
watching as the men took her away
driving home alone
climbing into bed alone
knowing i’d have to tell my children in the morning
dressing for work the next day
smiling in a flowered blouse
fighting with the bank
being fucked by one who never kissed
getting the key back in the mail
putting a strong young seizing dog to sleep with no one at my side
slipping on a wet floor
in high heeled boots and getting up like nothing’s wrong
getting up again and again
like nothing’s wrong