“The day we left the pineapple fields /Mother cried.”
The day has come when my mother
no longer knows me.
It comes on a day of dying
like words torn from a typewriter.
She thinks of the lost possibilities,
the one that remains hidden in the grass
unnamed by yearned for —
the idea of a bright one,
star-gazer, poet, mathematician.
Pig’s feet helps shrink the uterus,
which after birth is a flabby bag of muscle.
Pig’s feet helps get rid of the old blood.
So I am told.