I am in
the open
field again
waiting for
the answer
I was told
to find to
find my way
and so I
find myself
lost looking
for who I
was before
I began
to become
who I am
I try to
remember
try to find
the soft hands
that held my
infancy
at the breast
the gentle
song of round
musical
motherly
nourishment
a song of
permission
to be here
but instead
why are you
crying what’s
wrong with you
all you think
about is
yourself you
never think
about any-
one else you
you little
bastard all
you ever
think about
is you how
do you think
I feel on
my feet day
after day
to support
this house you
selfish brat
how do you
think I feel
for a change
remember
I brought you
into this
world and I’ll
take you out
is what I
heard as far
back as I
can forget
up until
I cut the
cord with her
her response
ended with
“you stupid
bastard” and
I ended
the phone call
“and that’s why
I . . . goodbye.”
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