the room’s an elephant,
scratching its grey&leathery skin along my chest,
bacK,
sQuishiNg me
into a corner
my mom places words against the walls,
in smalltalk& the slit-eyed tigercat
snores old sophisticated melodies
as if she was a diva on an opera stage
apPlause
–and sileNce
“i still bake my own cake”
“oh, i–“
a small bed against the wall
“she cannot take her wardrobe” i think
every quarter minute
some weird lines cross
and they both talk, wrapped
in different worlds
“i’m moving in this january” my mom says,
she couldn’t sleep last nite
too excited/sad/unnerved
all the steep stairs
in the old house
breaK
into a madman’s dance,
a catch-me-if-you-can,
a french cancan
stripping their shaved and sun-tanned legs
gath’ring uP blueredwhite skirts
a flag,
a detoNation
i start breathing
after 7 hours
after worlds did fall apart
after i held the car door open
for my mom
“you’ll be fine” i smile
and count the headlights
of a million stars
.
i’m guest-hosting at dVerse tomorrow and we’re writing about emotions – just your emotions – not anyone else’s – using specific images and metaphors, avoiding generalization – and so on… smiles
3pm EST tomorrow…