I take better care
of my mother’s possessions
than of her, she’d say
Inheritance
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I take better care
of my mother’s possessions
than of her, she’d say
My dead parents’ stuff
occupies my home and mind.
Unsorted, it waits.
Cold snap arrives at
last. Wind, rain shake the changing
leaves into vibrance.
Popcorn caffeine for
the friend whose mom is dying
comfort food TV.
Their lives loves failures
all source material for
future film projects.
Couplings and breakups
compelled by senior year some
begin others end.
With no school Monday
so much high drama surrounds
turning seventeen.
Unexpected rain
soothing in a random way
anxious thoughts washed clear.
I worry for her.
Her safety – his obsession –
cannot coexist.
They never read much.
When offered ten bucks for all
their books, they sold out.