Oh mother God,
I long for that bosom;
For your long hair that once tickled
My chubby cheeks, spilling
Over me as I fed.
I have found many avatars
And their candles flicker and fade,
Falling in sequence
From up along the palisades.
Autumn is on the verge with
Winter in the wings,
Shoulder-blades scarred from
My hot glue wonderings.
Frost keeps my eyelashes
Sewn and tethered in their place.
I flip the coin a million times
But never see your face.
What are the odds that you
And I would find ourselves
So utterly divorced?
But you were baptised in the rapids
And you knew this river’s course.
Oh Mother, Lover, Sister,
Dearest friend.
I’m smothered, covered, twisted
And I miss the peace you’d bring.
Sweetly Unhappy People 