Kathrine Yets, Poetry

Weed of My Loins
It’s hard to focus when her subconscious is always looking for a mother.
What about the woman with the azalea bushes?
A feminine pink with a twisted trunk, bushy tops remind her
of her mother’s blouse, which she wore during her manic episode.

You know there’s a problem when she’s eating popsicles in the bathroom.
When the hair dryer’s cord isn’t wrapped and sprawled out near the sink.
Her mother doesn’t notice. Her mother has her own hair dryer.

Almost met the goal o...


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