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
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.