Radio, 2006
Would I have shrunk
if my mother celebrated
my adolescence on the radio?
Now I see her alone,
in a rich town, being taunted.
She left for a whirl-wind of drugs.
I send another fortune. I couldn’t
have resisted; the hysterics. The swiftness
of life this season, the crispness of the blue sky.
I wrap myself in tailored wool,
hidden behind fabric; I hesitate.
They say to stop. I question what
that is—a pause. Type-shapes the page.
And I throw upwards with an arch of my
right arm. I twist my back, I leap.
© 2010 by Felice Tebbe. All rights reserved.