Where I found Our Mother
Posted by Aysha El Shamayleh | Filed under Poetry
He found Eve by a motel,
smoking her first cigarette,
munching on an apple,
standing in high boots,
And filth.
She got in a car with him.
She was one woman, who
often replaced the apple with a dick,
and took pleasure in it like sin.
Asked him, “is your cum toxic?
I hear your pregnant women get nauseous often.”
She got close enough to catch his scent.
Noticed, men’s cologne smells like sex,
And wondered if its made that way
because men hesitate to spend on anything else.
He pushed his way up her shaved pussy,
And it burnt.
Called her Mamma,
as he urgently dug his way back into a womb.
His sweated face almost resembled a babe in tantrum-mode,
while he realized he is still an infant,
but nothing but a fringe fits anymore.
He came inside her,
like she was a house.
Never rung the door bell, claiming he did not know where it was.
But his wife had told him a thousand times
That it was right at her clitoris.
She had collapsed in a puddle of her puke in a public bathroom a few days afterwards.
The pregnancy test showed a plus sign.
She figured she was positive…
Happily pregnant with his twins,
Thought of naming one
“Garbage”,
in honor of a white trash heritage.
And the other
“Aids”,
who would get the best of both worlds –
A name that meant relief,
but when capitalized implied death. She thought it was deep,
so he’s the one she decided to keep.
Rest assured, death does brings relief to some.
She finally decided to dispose of the life the man had disposed inside of her.
Garbage cried for his Momma as the trashcan cradled him.
He cried loud, but with no sign of arms,
he grew quiet
and died.
She walked into the dark.
I had found her,
hitchhiking her way back to the motel,
munching on an apple,
headed back to where it had all begun.
One Response to “Where I found Our Mother”
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Jasmine Says:
September 9th, 2010 at 12:09 pmamazing
