1.
how do they do it, the mothers?
needles soar and dive, the whir of hands,
fingers buzz with joy. while you can only dream
of movement, drift, hunch and squint
bones plodding in the dark. somewhere
there's a mother who enjoys this, lies
beneath heaps of laundry, dirty dishes
mending with some twisted smile. recall
your career once more industrious
than your washing machine. recall
how your husbands hand's could cup
and grab. now you wear
his old shirts, invisible breasts
pressed like pancakes by the weight
of squirming children. your body,
this defeated thing the day drags
behind. you think: just one gulp,
the swish of liquid, two
spots
of grace.
2 comments:
I remember this episode...it was terrifying
Wonderful title and lovely use of the couplets. I like how it gives sort of a light, airy feeling to this piece to contrast the dark content. I like the structure and surprise of the last two stanzas, too.
Will there be other parts to this piece? (after 1.)
Post a Comment