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.