chobani enlightenment [poem]

your feet pound the faux-wood floor
pace, pick up, forget as right foot steps
chobani, strawberry pieces, red
animal rage so strong, little man

your anger, your fire, you
that you found along the path of love
now as it casts stones at your son
does it feel good to burn, mama?

        you gulp sour spit at the sight of what you said
        in spite and sorry not fit to be a mom, not meant to be a mom, why did i decide to mom
        like this
        before the buddha on the couch
        you remember your plan to enlighten
        who the fuck has time for that
        creative mom with self-scarring wounds is surviving, self-medicating
        making space to make it better
        exhale smoke

your son was ready, wanted to be gone
didn’t flinch in seeing you stay there, behind
but does she have the bubble wand, mama?

        she does, my sweet son, she does

Upper Peninsula, Michigan, USA // November 2020