I am virulent today, the pestilence of maternity.
She is my nourishment while I am her blight
Wonder. Brittle agony? Hurtful sight?
Reaching for that one, last, flickering, irascible
Fluorescent light
And my being croons over and over, this strength
so mustered by undelivered rations of Milk and Honey
so embittered by the fashions of Silken Money
Be STill! And know that I AM is still up and running
Regardlessly wreckless of denial and breakfast
Fack, it's like a carnival hash (of once which I have propriated)
The Mish and the Mash that got me so wonderfully faded
The one grasp of Reality that could not be invaded... is bereft,
In my forlorn nostalgia of motherly wept.
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