TsuMami

 

Mama peels back her currents

looking for spare Change

in her nethermost nooks

–her Birds forget to sing
 
 
in that terrible stillness

that smile that isn’t

toothsome reef—skinned grimace

trembling tide pools—bleed out

yaw in pregnant

protest

but

Mama Earth guffaws that buck-snorting guffaw

(inappropriate to the situation, yet eminently so)

busting belts

bursting seams

slapping life to its knees

bent double, backward laughs

“ah-ah-ah-ah!”

(demonic, you know)

gargled salt water

(for chronic strep)

quenches her own thirst

–she spits.

©Karen Robiscoe