Beware the Drives

My Mother

35 My Mother Were I to choose before I was born Never would I have been My mother’s baby Destitute woman, sick of poverty. But then: she’s all I’ve got for an umbrella she’s all I’ve got for a mother I can only accept, admire and love her and all that she’s wont to offer. When I’m in dire need of drying off balls, of tears off my cheeks I crawl to her, and not to The other woman, clad in gold. Insecurity Insecurity has become Mortals’s chief currency. When they bypass one another The hi and hellos are As if to say: Please don’t hurt me. ...