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.

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© 2010 by Felice Tebbe. All rights reserved.