The Oaks

Their dead finger shadows
-stretch-
Across the cold asphalt

stupid conversations

If the world is full
of an indistiguishable void,
the youth begins,
serious and stricken,
full of earnestness,

We laugh
raging holes
bursting with poms
and as circumstance would have it
shards of saliva

What a stupid thing!, we yell
A stupid thing
For everyone knows
that the universe empties out
onto itself

waves

Through the green
a shard of blue
blinds
and hums

The waving
sound
shakes my ears
and numbs
my mind

the daughter

Someday,
when I am old
craggy voice and delicate
see-through skin
I will look in the mirror
and see pigtails
or the fashionable bob
or horror above all horrors
my Mother