JUST BEIN’ MOMS REDRUM
by Ellen Welcker
Soggy paper airplane, nose lodged in dog shit
Say aloud, on the nose—send myself back
three paces. You cry about the way
they fly. I’m at my desk again, working
on my neck hunch. I petty
the wrong pickles, I check boxes
for death. KK texts me from the clinic,
where probably, they’re making good guesses.
It’s a squad of skeletons armed with shields
JUST BEIN’ MOMS REDRUM it says.
The dog fights her own battles beside me, asleep.
Only my computer knows I’m a prophet.
The planes all fly differently. And every time.
Like a pile of cranes, beautiful and fragile in their angles.
Like a pile of women, unladylike
Just start over. Bunch it up. I’m an ass to talk
about wastefulness. You’re trying to getting better.
About the Author:
Ellen Welcker’s books include Ram Hands (Scablands Books, 2016) and The Botanical Garden (Astrophil Books, 2010) and several chapbooks, including “The Pink Tablet,” (Fact-Simile Editions, 2018), which, along with her co-conspirators, they made into a multi-genre live production dubbed a ‘feral opera’ last year. She lives in Spokane, WA.