Magic Mama

for jack

he loves deeply is feral-angry cries rivers

there is no rhythm to the remembering, / no time or space or elaborate calling

words are fraying tethers.

The interior of our childrens schools feel other-wordly now, dare we place a toe over the treshold.

I thought of the end and / I met it for what it was.

Her snail’s pace is patience, thrumming through the rooms where I try to exist.

It all happened in an instant, just like the lightning rush.

inches from the nowhere drain

hound the ones with rounded edges

it took a year for it / to die, shelled and / alone in a far corner of / the unkempt living room.