& 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.