I remember you there
In the brown velvet chair
Curlicues of smoke
And trays filled with ash
With your hair démodé
Inhaling crap on TV
Laughing absent-mindedly
Liminally Refracted

Home one week
And gone the next
Family lives devoid of context
Trial separation
Swapping homes
With your husband
Do-si-do (to the left)
Do-si-do (to the right)
What on earth does it mean to be a good wife?
Instability for all
Even me,
(You always seemed so small)
Your spirit and body
Both shrunken,

How I felt for you
On Christmas Day
The potatoes you burnt
And the price that you paid
All the men in your house
Castigating, berating,
Proclaiming you worthless
Your failings decried
Merry fucking Christmas
(I imagine you cried)

Faith: cleaner of the shower,
Abdicating mother,
Cynical wife.
Faith: roaster of meat,
Scorned scorcher of potatoes
And cigarettes,
Oh so many of those
That you thickened the air
Made it murky to breathe
Like fog made of pea soup
I do wonder if you’ve since found repose?
Fulfillment and peace
I do hope
I suppose
I’ve gotta have faith

I’ve gotta have faith, faith, faith.



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