
learning the art of sleeping around
a cloud of sex and cigarettes
pervades my memory of my mother--
her toothy grin like a drunken Cheshire Cat
with a man in the background
saying "hey baby" to her
twelve year old daughter
some photos, more poems, and an art of me that is not me
1 comment:
I'm not really a fan of poetry, but I like this one. Don't know why.
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