ducks

two ducks she brought me clutched to her bosom. a beautiful woman protecting vulnerable beings yes, they are me. that gaze means something. "live until they die, asshole,' is the silent inference of motherly love. and the ducks shuttered.

mom made it to the car 2am ER visit. The advise nurse had encouraged me to drive two tows over to acquire a suppository from a pharmacist who didn't speak English (heavy on my mind was 1985, fevered in venice riding my father's shoulders at 2am looking for ear ache relief). mom and dad made it into the ER, tiny as they are... and whiskey heavy on my breath I called the doctors stupid to my hearts content.

now the ducks are imprinted on me and with sponge eyes they watch me smirk and write poetry. poor fucked ducks.