How Do You Do It?
Was the abusive coach actually
a menace or
just bad timing, an offhand
remark that fell
into a loop of self-loathing
adding an 'outside voice'
on top of the inside one
(which can at least be doubted, right?
since it comes from the stupid self)? My girl.
Stupid self--everyone valuable
part of being sentient
and not evil
is that self-consciousness, -distrust,
now and then.
Exc oriations under a rock. Grief rock.
Our one girl. Alongside two brothers
and the normal of now:
college apps, thank-you notes,
certification. (Do I worry?
about him? or
about what he'll see?) Homework
and Self Care:
exercise and good books, coffee
and solitude or new friends
or none, none today, and how much
makes sense if you don't
homeschool and don't play
(tennis) six hours a day six days a week...
how little, how hard, how soon?
Each one with a spiraling list,
small woes, big ones,
I'm here and i'm ready but also
spent the afternoon learning
(from church ladies) how to keep kids safe
from Sexual Predators--
"talented, resourceful, authoritative."
Like the security guard who bought Cokes
offered rides, gave money,
suggested paintball (a team)
Don't tell your parents...
Tow boys, my oldest and his friend.
The friend said Let's not tell.
The double betrayal
it then was to tell us.
When the police went to question
the guard, he had emptied
his apartment and fled. Pffst.
Which means it was real
Fucking real. Only one boy
able, willing, to tell. And me,
to get between my kids and the threats,
or to not get there.
To mean well but be weak
or too late. We have to work,
we make dinner or art or
time or haste. Or we don't.
We don't make it. When will that be?