And learning to blow bubbles with gum
In the passenger seat of a car
On what I'd like to say was the 836 in Miami
I remember a hand letting go
Of a bicycle seat
And wobbling toward a bush
Resting by accident
And pretty scared over the ordeal
I remember restaurants
Under the table
Resting my head in a lap
I almost remember riding the bus
To a place where I would spend
Daylight hours
While mom worked
I remember doing math homework
In the car
Late to school
With help
Burger King from the night before
For lunch
Fries can't go that far
It's asking too much
But it's food
And things I like
Things that won't kill me
One less thing
For mom to worry about
There were breakfasts
With strange kids
That might someday be my brothers
Sisters
But they never were
It was always fun to pretend
That I might have a crush
On a girl living in the same house as me
We're not related
Not really
There was Amway
And Tupperware
And loud Israeli women throwing wholesale clothing parties
But there was also
Sushi
And Thai food
Just us
Grandpa couldn't make me eat liver and onions from the grave
Now I eat it
Just to remember
Talks about wearing rubbers
I was nowhere near that yet
There were art shows
And pride
Events, contests, auditions
And pride
Clowning around for money
Real live clowns
Like mother, like son
Once I won a radio contest
Imitating Ronald Reagan
Pride
I met Melissa Manchester
But was hoping for Ray Charles
Beach?
I remember beach
Floaties on my arms
And sand in my pants
Then there were the other times
Wine bottles
Filled with cigarettes
Wine bottles
Held in contempt
Overhead
Still it was all she could do
To be nice to me
Support me
Mom
She would set up a hotel for me
So I wouldn't be scrambling
Traveling without any real experience
Barely an identity
How do you get one?
You build one
She knew that
I almost didn't make it
Mom
Now there's wife
And house
And life
And pride
Our dog is a grandson for now
Mom doesn't know how
To ask
Doesn't pressure
Doesn't get upset
Far away
Mom
Good natured
Mom
There's a lot I don't remember
But it isn't just about that
There's feelings of peacefulness
Surrender
There are pulses of emotion
To bathe in
The only kind of baptism I know
There are kind words
And deep interest
Things slowing down
Just a bit
Even in the rush of the day
There is a pattern
That has become overlaid
Over everything she does
Like the blue veins
On her hands
That match my own
Freckles and toes
That look familiar
But different
Even more so now
Mom
There are days that go by
That we don't speak
And just to know her
Is a true honor
As I become her
And learn how to be
Myself
Mom
Her spirit is accommodating
And light
But somehow more cumbersome
Now
Than the hand that let go
Of a bicycle seat
Just a few handfuls of years ago
The weight of air
Between the fingers
Like strings
Like sand
And all the photographs
Get old
But here we are
Just feeling the same
Moving through all the tricks
Together
The gimmicks and craftiness
So gullible
But laughing all the way
Because we both know
That it's never what it seems
All our lessons
Are forgettable
Because blowing bubbles
And Chuckles from a machine
And butterflies kisses
Will always be the hardest things to explain
And better to just find the time
To share it
The real lessons
Multiplying over on one side
While our combined knowledge
Becomes a forgotten recipe
Written in a language
That no one can speak anymore
--
5.5.08
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