the next day

Posted by jeresk on February 1, 2008 in My Mom's Poems |

he’s sleeping now exhausted

after giving the physical therapist shit

about the walker and going slowerslowerimeanitSLOWDOWN MR PACE

and telling the nurse with obvious sarcasm

even through his garbled gabbiness

– now darlin I preciate your concern but

if I gotta pee I’m getting up to pee and I ain’t waiting

for your permission you ain’t

my mama last time

I looked.

he’s decided he’s going to live.

he let me cut his spaghetti since he can’t twirl

his fork yet but told me to back off

the babying he can feed hisself and didn’t that

doctor whatsisname tell em how reMark

able his recovery was reMarkable

he says that means

I’m getting better see

so who knows I mean who

guarantees anything one way or

the other

one day after brain surgery one day after

we were told to prepare

ourselves he’s watching fox news and telling visitors who

should be president (none of em) and telling the union gal

that wal-mart has absofrickinlutely been the best damnthing ever happin

to this country that’s going to hell in a handbasket and

bless him he’s clean wore himself out

giving them shit.

bless him,

it’s been a good day.

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