I was 39 when I found the woman who gave birth to me. Between nature and nurture, I found my health, my slant, my way of putting attitude together with words....and all of the reasons I got slapped as a child. Your mile-wide stretch of wildness through my soul. Your birth day, Betty Kawalkiewicz.
This Getting Older Thing
for the moment I get it I get the clarity of all this seemingly vacant time staring into a blank sheet of paper as if the Freudian mirror of Jesus will appear That's what clouds do Insects burrow through this black space under bark We have holy people who dedicate their lives to this kind of silence staring into a blank sheet of shaven tree bark blank canvas empty dance floor score sheet stage sending vibes someone parallel might call prayer into the murk The funny kids in my class know all about this but I never stick around for them to say it's ok I always ran with an older crowd And when I was set loose I hung with the broken coal miners and railroad bums Factor this into the syllabus I needed to figure out what it means to be human Who's gonna learn anything from anyone their own age I knew this the moment the woman who gave birth to me signed me over to the Orphan’s Court The moment the nurse brought me back when she wasn't supposed to once to feed