She wasn’t Mary Oliver

The Green Eyed Girl – The Absence of mother love


What did she say that particularly perturbed and hurt you? The invisible therapist in my empty chair asked

did she grind you to powder with the mortar of her disregard?

chop you finely into translucency with her polished metzaluna

or leave you gasping on rocks

the fish with hook

stinking the quayside with

unwanted breath failing

she wasn’t Mary Oliver but if she were what would she have said?

smoothed your high brow and translated those

apparent manifestations of hate

into paper boats

each one containing a secret

she despised her milk smudged mother

who cried frequently at

little bidding

saw it as a weakness

because her grandmother never respected

unwanted children who disfigured her

waist line

so the little child and her elder

ganged up against the easily tearful

and flung her out

when you came

you who reminded her of nothing before

with a large head that split…

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