Sometimes I regret my words
But never my poems
My words just last a moment
Hope my poems not
Hope they echo from the paper
Through space and time
And maybe someone read them
Till their last lines
Endless lines filled with passion
And a bit of fantasy.

my mother always used to say
(usually in distaste for someone else's behavior):

"if the shoe fits."

as a child i
puzzled over this phrase.

i never understood people who hated their mothers
mine seemed alright
we'd have a fight
once in awhile...
but i think it was when
i was sitting with a judge
on my right hand
my mother in front of me
and the brown-toothed woman lawyer
next to her
both of them
talking out the corner of their mouths
bringing up
any bad thing
i'd ever done
and some that
i hadn't
that i finally realized
what "if the shoe fits"
truly
meant.

that day i guessed your size,
mother.
and i knew
just which pair of shoes
you'd chosen to wear
for the rest of your life.
one is called
mockery
the other is called
bitterness
and you have a backup pair named
hatred
and
scorn

today i looked at her
in her shoes that fit all too perfectly
(like they were even
made for her)
and realized
that they are one of the things
(out of many)
i wouldn't like to
inherit...


mother,
if the shoe fits...
wear it.