I sit alone and wonder why things have to be so hard…
From out of the dark she comes,
And we discuss the current events:
My son’s tears damp on a face.
She starts in tearing at my heart with her dirty ideas,
With dirty talons, and a whole life’s worth of every good intention,
All pushed forward to eyes and poured down face,
As I realized that nothing mattered to me more
Then watching her fail.
At everything, the Mother Hyena she is…she fails at everything…
A hackle of laughter, she contorts
Herself into dispositions of parenting,
And the wordless limb, the coddled cord,
Cut, it was never there for long.
A crown of bone,
On the road.