in all their blind-driven, driven blind caresses
And plaster-stuck, never-empty chests of neverminds
Sleep, never again, each night of their mother life.
as a May blackbird, hopping half-starved and careless
to gain a moment singing a whisper to the moon,
fall into a womb convoluted drowse
down and fending off the black years
of sheets and pants and vodka-soaked,
disregarding doors-in face fuck offs.
and whys and cries from car window eyes
sweet-stale duvets and uniformed snaps,
receive weeping nightly visitations.
soak and sponge sadness and surliness
to squeeze out love tears like clouds
from a never-ending autumn sky