The Womb

Take it all down:
the calendar, the clock,
the curio shelf – picture of your ma.

Take down those greasy sconces
and those framed flights
of your pigeoned eye.

Take down the best of your days
and your rage…your rage.
Take down the sheetrock.

Punch out all those cagey studs
with a sledge – strip out the wire
and sell it for scrap.

Then step into the hands of your mother
lying there – sweaty, depleted, collapsed.

Image: Quino Al on Unsplash

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: