Widows

It's almost Mother's Day
Me and the other widows will commiserate
Alone at Montessori again
Straddling two worlds
Between the crush of single parenting
And the need for wailing in the woods
Around a slash pile burning into the night
With tear crusted eyes

I know I'm overcompensating
In this PTSD disorientation
From my brief time in the rich part of the city
Now my hands stink like salmon skin
Left out in the rain in the ash
Of the fire from last night
I haven't bathed in a while
And no one's near me

If there's significance in where you live
Let it all go and follow love and intuition

Today the tabloids told the world you separated me

And see what's there

My phone began dinging more than usual

In the open sky

It was just like the day
They found out that we'd gotten married

Because we're all gonna die

Unwanted attention
From an inhumane delirious absurd other world
That keeps trying to eat you

I woke up quivering, raw, and heartbroken again
Took my daughter to the garbage dump
And rifled through the free pile
And stood next to the pit
The crows and ravens circling spoke to us
And we spoke back to them
But nothing is real
Except this one thing

Please remember at the bookstore in the poetry corner upstairs
I slept with my head on your lap