Bringing the Wendy's

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Bringing the Wendy’s

 

Just clang on the lamp if you need anything, mom.

 

I'll just be lying here, thinking about how small morphine is,

And how large life is going to get in six months to a year.

 

No, you are not wasting away on me yet.

You still have report cards to sign, and P.T.A. brownies to build;

You still have to ask me how goggles work,

You still have to touch my blue ribbons for third grade poetry.

 

You have obligations, my beautiful, half-dying mother. Obligations.

 

But right now all I want is to see you breathe better

and stay regular.

It's the little urinary victories that matter most today.

Your legs bend so well today,

You should be kidding yourself about walking any day now.

My delusional mother is dreaming

about walking to Reinker's again.

I love my delusional mother today.

 

Once, I walked on good son legs all the way up to Wendy's.

I brought you a chicken sandwich, with bacon just to tease you.

That bite you took sustained you for a day or so.

You told all the relatives that your son brought you a Wendy's.

 

It's been fifteen years now, and I haven't ordered one since.

 

(If you need anything, world, just clang on the lamp.

I'll just be lying here, thinking about how small life can get.)


 


Submitted: February 05, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Michael Pollick. All rights reserved.

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tom mcmullen

I liked again M P

Fri, February 5th, 2021 3:31am

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