Poem 19/30 Answer Me?

ANSWER ME?

I cut my left hand slicing mushrooms.
Reminds me of William Carlos Williams
and his fucking grapes.

My mother cursed me with her unfortunate knees
and a belief that anyone who doesn’t respond
promptly to my messages is dead or gone.
Sometimes that’s the same thing.

Answer me?
Someday I may forget that you smell like my father,
who left me bad eyesight and a passion to read,
Not surprising, given his bipolarity.

My daughter thanked me for Nikki Giovanni and the Roots.
My son is glad that he couldn’t possibly be worse than me.
Luckily for the unborn, I stopped there.

We have all survived despite my foolish efforts.
You answered me and said you’d be hungry at eight.

I burned my ring finger boiling water for pasta,
reminding me of nothing.

© puma perl, 4/19/11