Things You Can’t Say in ACOA
I hope I die before I lose my teeth.
Watching everything I know about femininity crumbling
into beer cans and those hidden places only grief may bore
behind the shelves in the garage-
we find old bottles cleaning
she’s forgotten
we find old memories shriveled in sniveling corners
vermin claws tracing spectre of auburn hair fly down
sobbing on a sidewalk in an outlet mall parking lot
I thought I’d lost you where did you go
These days she’s chipped her mouth again
and no longer grits to speak. When the addiction
cracks my mother, I hope it calls for me.
5 thoughts on "Things You Can’t Say in ACOA"
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I used to find what I called industrial size bottles of vodka under my mother’s lovely couch. I know this poem—beautiful honest portrayal and yes at Avis meetings there is so much still unsaid, deeply felt, sadness sadness. This is one of the reasons poets exist for the world to listen
We find it stashed places we have never even thought of.
Some things can’t be said in standard language, I think. They’re too much.
I meant acoa not Avis?!
<3
the way you let the words play against themselves adds to the impact