Abuse Singer sounded like "stinger," Fifty years gone, but fresh.... The long sewing machine drive belt Hung thin and waiting by the broom. Mother handled it like a snake, Writhing in the after school air When she used it to soothe Menopausal rages.
Welts and shame, rose-red arose When she stripped them of their clothes; Struck hard the tender flesh: Buttocks, thighs, Panicked wrists and hands, Flailing in the silence of a preacher's home.
"I never struck in anger," She likes to say. A counselor chills to hear... A cool-headed striker of children so sick To give her children the gift Of bruises, without emotion.