Return to Sender

Written 02/26/2007

My mother has impossible requests
"Hate your sister."
"Don't be like your father."
As if I could take away the apin
I desperately siphon
Into a car that is out of gas
When it rolls, and I with it, I rejoice
I, eye, that window to the
soul lies, "Pity me."
So I continue on the forged path
Cutting way through bramble
towards mythical golden cities,
happiness.
For her and for me,
Simple things,
Bread and butter and tea
Deocomposition, rendition
of all the poems I just read
backwards, coming out
to say "Hello" and answering
my mother's impossible requests
Managing them into lost cubby holes
Marked "Return to Sender."