Note: This is my mother. The last line made me think the photo suitable. I am recovering from a difficult cold subdued by a bottle of Benylin, but it ain’t over yet baby blue. I came to understand that my mother’s second “n” on Susann was conjured in the 60s, though a Susan with one n she could live with. Honestly, I suspect she saw the aesthetic balance of Susann with Enns, and another grip on her own self. I’ll put her naming story up on Mother’s Day.
BLANKETS AND BASKETS
a song for spring somewhere warm
So we’ll wait for the next day. for tomorrow let’s pretend
all will be better when my hands do not bleed, a bit of cheek
caught when my hands are flapping and I can’t keep control
of my own blood tied up in twine. I want to be naked
but my skin is itchy, and my urine, does it still drip
watch my watchfors snags trolling the deeps, meta
fucking fours my cat has my skin in its claws nothin
fancy about that, hey! I take it away as a take a way
who grooms you baby not right now maybe soon
Chrissie Hynde reaches to pat my cat I substitute my hat
you can touch my hat, but you can’t touch my cat.
There be some pushing and shoving, we’re all good with that.
The camera captures our immediate image no-time flat.
Double nns keep moving, bread, blankets, picnic baskets