Tag: life

• December 4, 2023

  poem ten

  feeling deeply unsafe, I avoid lifein what they now call bed-rotting – motherissues again. Goddammit, we burnt heronce, can’t do it again! she twice asked mesoon before her sleep apnea departure:how did I raise such hateful sons? Mother,you did not – not hateful. Rage was the milkthat flowed from your bosom. can you fault usfor…