Kevin Latimer

& the [last last last] poem i’ll write about my (dead) mother

my moms is in my head tonight & she’s talkin’ all that weird shit. askin’ me

why you leave & where you been. mama, i been sittin’ under this oak tree & i been busy

missing you. i put out two nickels on the edge of our water fountain in honor

of your memory. often (or always) i have dreams we’re skatin’: your strawberry blonde hair dancin’ with the wind. did you ever dream about me mama? / was i alive in your mind in your final days / did i ever seep into your memory / did the cancer wipe my existence away? mama, i been sittin’ under this oak tree & i been thinkin’ bout you. sometimes i close my eyes & speak your name.

i open them:    you are here & then

i blink

& miss            the wind

wash you

away again.

Kevin Latimer is a poet and playwright from Cleveland, Ohio. He is a Best New Poets 2018 nominee, and the Co-Editor-in-Chief of BARNHOUSE. His work has appeared in or is forthcoming from FEELINGS, TRACK//FOUR, DIALOGIST, and others.

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