The greatest thing about life?
Are debates.
Where you listen to various takes on subject matters.

You should be married before having ***.
While some see premarital as a simple test.
Of course, we already know the minister view.

But marriage is an honorable thing.
But once hitched you might be shocked by some things.

Her/his drive might not match yours and you stuck.
And if you cheat you going to hear the word love.
When your status wasn't on an equal stage.

Who truly discuss *** on dates?
When you aware you might offend?
So some dive into premarital bliss.

To see if the chosen one is the lucky ticket.
Or need to be dismissed and you search for another.

Scriptures here.
Scriptures there.
Not going to stop some premarital affairs.

I didn't want to go to band camp!
You didn't listen did you mother?
Where's dad? Where is my dad?
He's living with a ***** who isn't my mother.
Wake up! He cheated on you stupid mother.
Such a dumb mom to believe dad.
Who's condoms were on the car floor?
Did you and dad have *** and you didn't know it?
He lied mother!
I'm on his facebook and yours.
I see dad's long list of women with **** pics.
***** to be his 18 year old daughter.
My dad the ******* with a string of net lovers.
Dear old dad if I had a string of guys what would you do?
Dad wants to play with women's ***** who are not my mom.
I'm 18 and messed up in the head.
I've got dad posting he wants to touch parts of women.
I've got a mom to dumb to know he's touching parts of women.
Dad stop posting you want to kiss *****.
I'm 18 and I'm feeling messed up in the head.
Dad and you shipped me off to band camp.
Didn't want to go mom and cheating dad.
I know you are sad mom and dad hurt you.
Mom you to be young again and date your friends.
Facebook is messed up place to be for me.
I am thinking of unfriending both of you.
I feel messed up in the head.
I didn't want to go to band camp.
Dad said go he wants to play with lady ***** not my moms.
Mom said go she wants to be young now that she knows dad cheats.
I am never getting married.
Met a boy and we did what was natural.
I was 18 and camp ended and I was going to be a mother.
I never want to be a dumb mother like you.
Thanks for nothing mother!  
You were upset for one day then wanted to adopt my baby.
You were namma not mother to my baby.
Hope you happy I made you a namma before you were ready.
I did not want a baby and did not want you raising mine.
I don't want a baby I grew in my stomach calling me sibling.
Baby got adopted and you wont be the mother.
My child will never have a mother like you.
This ain't no I got a friend story or a fairy tale.
Dad took off and he had another kid with a lover.
Thanks for not telling me dad!
Thanks for my scars seeing your kids birth announcement on the internet.
I feel messed up in the head thanks to you dad and mom.
I saw a news story about open marriages and that's what I want.
Marriages don't work so we wont get married.
Marriage is a fairy tale told wrote by preachers
to make people not want to have premarital ***.
If marriage was so great dads would not cheat.
If marriage was great mom and dad would be happy.
Marriage is a prison me and nobody else wants.

You're moving in with your girlfriend and many people have congratulated you.
You've asked me to do the same but that is something I can't and won't do.
I won't congratulate you because you and your girlfriend will be living in sin.
I won't condone premarital ***, don't ask for my congratulations ever again.
Yes, I have old-fashioned morals that you consider to be out of date.
I won't congratulate you because you're doing something that God hates.

Ladies have you ever heard these statements,
if you love me then let me sleep with you
because a men has some needs. Some guys will
even tell you that if you can't sleep with him,
he will go and sleep with someone else or
dump you. My advice is, Your body is not a
temperature that has to be tested for true
love. Once they are done with you, they will
find another target because premarital *** is
like a bank account, once someone withdraws,
they start loosing some interests. In some
cases premarital *** is like magic, your
boyfriend disappears and a baby appears. Hear
me my daughters on this, WHAT IS IN-BETWEEN
YOUR LEGS can not be traded for anything and
it has to be kept sacred for the right time and
the right person. If you had made mistakes,
you can make corrections and do the right
thing, simply because it has happened, it
doesn't mean that it has to keep happening.
It is better to be dumped and walk away with
your dignity and respect. TRUE LOVE WAITS

Catherine's Tango
Quiet moonless night lit only by the libido of a white cigarette
Do not
Do not be a poet
propose to a woman
and die with children on your
Denim Soul'd Lap
I am giving up
I am
disfiguring my Rifle
I am
unwashed clothes
tucked into the corner of the bed
where You and She and He and You
sleep
make love
speech
listen to the radio
when it
gives premarital birth
to Jazz C-section
when the radio
sticks its finger down its
electrical throat
attached to the wall
and
Digests Classical Master Pieces of Symphonies

I am 1:42am
an orange pill
2 pennies
3 quarters
a dime
a nickel
molding yogurt
a face sprouting weeds
a body
blooming old age

Tip Toe
unlock my
golden halted door to a chamber of
Lamps that bend and sigh
only to leave you
quite sad
quite misplaced in the sand
asking for water
but all we have
is cold coffee
it has been sitting out for
2 waltz
all of the ceiling's light bulbs
are awake
chattering quietly
like 5am suburbia birds
Pigeons
Crows
The one eyed red robin coasting south for a warm nest
watch out
Lovers are here to stay
they carry
knives and ****** bouquets

They told me to write about the family dynamic,
and even though they were careful to say

"The" family dynamic,

I was quite sure they wanted to say

"My" family dynamic.

The way I'm quite sure that when my mother asks if I'm gay,
and if that is the reason I'm sporting a gay pride belly ring,
that she is actually saying,

"I swear to God if you're a **** that's the last straw."

Catholic upbringings seem to only account for politely covering up
hidden agendas, not actually purging them in place of acceptance.

My family dynamic is the blank stare I gave my mother that day.
It is the uncertainty I feel on a daily basis. A constant debate on
whether or not I should send her fragile ideals about me spinning
off their axis, admit to being bisexual. In my mind I always look
her in the eyes and say something along the lines of,

"Don't worry mother, I could never be gay. I enjoy a good hetero ******* too much."

In reality I smile and shake my head.  Leaving her to go on living in a world
where daughters don't have premarital ***, or lose babies, or try to **** themselves.
In a world where her good catholic daughter could never be gay.

I will read Stag’s Leap again and again until
it stops making sense to my heart, is not my problem anymore.
My mother never told me the story of how she lost
her first husband, much less the second
but I have all these ideas in my head of how she could leave
dad from poetry books like yours,
Sharon Olds. It is what I picked up when my
sunrise split into two blades of grass the wind would carry across
the states, thinking a man I loved could disappear
any time – forget how I picked barbed wire from his chest and
not in the way an ocean forgets it has waves.
Not comfortably. I read your
poems when the world looked like it was made of granola,
eroding from the inside out, I read
Stag’s Leap again and again when he said, no, we do not talk
about her, but it was too quiet not to. I wanted to
talk about things that there are not terms for.
Only so many words one
can say of their memories and feelings because to no one else
are they real – he does not know that the last time I felt
okay with him it was when I fled
his boarding station, smoothing my skirt down
so the train’s breeze wouldn’t touch me. On that day, I wanted
nothing but him to touch me ever again
and there he went, south, leaving with mockingbirds. I
would have waved had I known we were on
a countdown, in the final silent moment of our relationship.
I always knew the hour we last had ***, since Stag’s Leap I now
ask why it is that way. No, we don’t talk about her
but I wonder if ******* a married person still counts as
premarital *** and if I can mourn a man even when he’s right here.

When replaying conversations you had and words she had said start to make you smile like you just heard that your favorite ice cream shop brought back a limited flavor.
That's when you know.

When you start checking your phone, hoping that she might've accidentally sent something and apologizing for it, planning how you'd casually say 'it's okay' when you'd stop yourself from blurting "I've been waiting for you to say something."
That's when you know.

When a simple "I like your smile." makes you feel lightheaded because of how hard you try to thank her sounding oh so casual while your face would get oh so red.
When you wake up realizing that you've started to sleep text her.
That's when you know.

When you find yourself wondering what she thinks about you.
What she thinks about abortions.
What she thinks about marriage.
Premarital ***.
***..
What she'd think about ***..
..With you
When you find yourself wondering how her hands would feel going down your bare back
If her whispers in your ear would make your back arch
If your ears would ever let go of the sound of her kissing you
If her kisses would be gentle
Or if they'd leave purple marks over your body
When you wouldn't mind either or.
That's when you know.

When you find yourself wondering if she had thought about you too.
When you know that if she asked, you'd try letting go of the things that you've held on to for so long.
That's when you know.
When she's been in your head for over ten minutes.
That's when you know.
You're ******.

Dear daughter
Here’s my advice
To guide you in your future...
Stay pure...
No I’m not just saying it
Because it’s the
“Parent” thing to say
No I’m not just saying it
Because premarital ***
Isn’t ok...
No I’m not just saying it
Because you are my
one and only
Baby girl
I’m saying it
Because purity
Destroys darkness
In a filthy cruel world
Keep the potency
Of your innocence
Tuck between your shrine
If he doesn’t commit
Tell him to step behind
A queen in the making
An angel in disguise
An ezer for a real man
Who wants to own his light...
Dear daughter
Here’s my advice
To guide you in your future
Working for the man
Is not in your plan
And I wish I learned this sooner
You are strong, black and gifted
You are the backbone of this land
Don’t let this world profit
Off the hard work of your hands
Start your business with integrity
And never sell yourself short
I never want you to Slave like me
I want you to know self worth
And when they try to tell you
Your dreams won’t it...
And they make you want to cry
Tell them... I don’t dream
I promise

Dear daughter
Here’s my advice
To guide you in your future
Stay close to God
You are so brilliant
In your spirit
When you pray
God hears it!

I may fail you on some days
But understand
God will not
Know that when the world
Is crumbling
He is our Rock
He will hear all your cries
He will provide you with hope
And the tools you need in life
He will cover you in a latter rain
To help my beautiful rose
Outgrow the pain...
Dear daughter...
I don’t have it all figured out
But if I can save you
From the strife I faced
I have faith you will be alright

To the emotionally estranged,

I’ve never known what was good for me  All I’ve ever known was how to tie my shoes and binge eat captain crunch  You place your finger tips all over my stomach  Padding each piece of lymph  Do you ever want to curl like those little pillbugs?  It seems like I haven’t seen one of those since you watched me eat dirt, and grass, and I’ve perhaps tried a dandelion  But I don’t think you knew  I’ve tied your shoes before  My big tooth fell out on the driveway  We searched for a minute, maybe two  I tasted blood in my mouth for the first time  It was like the early smell of gasoline  I appreciated it  And I said so  I walked down the steps and turned the corner  Your eyes lit up to see the seven year old wearing tights, long socks, a dress underneath a sweater and a thrifted vest, as well as a lost fedora found in the attic  I pulled down the decrepit stairs and you heard the whine of bothered steps  yelling up the stairs “what are you doing”  Feathered Fedora shall be lost again  The school’s Saint Patricks leprechaun stole it  Or so you say to avoid the bi polar of it all  The hospital was a new thing for me  You took me, I sat silent in the passenger seat  We played the radio (we never played the radio)  I didn’t know if I should’ve apologized or something for having premarital ***  But I don’t think it would’ve bothered you too much  You’d be glad a boy liked me!  Well, he didn’t like me like that  I don’t know why he chose me that *****, ****** night  You bought me a sweater from Michaels afterwards, it said something like “I believe in unicorns and Santa”  It was on sale since it was January  I won’t let you hold me, and how it needles you  Wake  I sang at her wake  An Adele original  I did it for me  And you  But also me  Everyone’s tears dried by the time we reached the restaurant  I wonder how they fixed the smash in her head while eating eggplant parm  Mortisions are magical  Some crimes I’ll never forget  Asked why I don’t talk to him or text or call or like  We will sit in this diner and recline in the giant booth that’s too big for the fragility of your body  You pray for me  Stop praying for me  I take up much time  I don't have the right virtues for all that  Don’t overindulge in god  Track me home at two am  Make sure I’m safe  I’ll keep tying your shoes, at the graduation, at the barbeque, at the talent show  anywhere  I’d fly home to tie your shoes  if you asked me to  if you wanted me to  if you'd let me-

With a sort of deteriorating eternal love,
Angel

The biggest lies told is we talk to our children.
Especially about ***.
Wrong!

Many adults avoid it mostly.
And at a high rate.
And only in certain circles and surroundings do truth ever spoken.

Church, speak about saving yourself for marriage.
Sounds good.
Sounds really good.
But once trapped into a marriage by saving your purity.

And finally getting hitched.
Or marry.
What if?
The lady of choice states she likes to make love once a week.
And the man of choice seeks it more.
Or vice versa n this situation.
Don't you see a mess about to be created?

Some have nothing against premarital ***.
So is it right or is it wrong?
Remember, as with all things it depends upon the person.

And many of these loving saints failed to follow things they preach.
Many of their own kids know math and can add.

If you seventeen and mom and dad only been married for sixteen.
They you know what happens?
They probably never told the truth to the whole story.

So saving yourself is a personal choice.

The 168,
Departed late,
A character trait,
Of public transit,
So here I sit,
On this black bench,
In the hot hot sun,
The bus threw a wrench,
Into my fun,
The longer I wait,
The more I think,
The bus won’t come,
Within the next blink,
This is my life,
Without a car,
Without a wife,
I’m going far,
With my girlfriend,
After I mend,
Our broken understandings,
And premarital demandings,
Now the bus is here,
And I bust a rhyme,
And I bus around,
From time to time,
I have to go,
But I’ll be back,
Don’t do drugs kids,
Stay away from crack.

Last September 22, 2015, the high school students and faculty gathered in the SJA Hall for the formal opening of the Catechetical Week. It is usually called “Catechetical Sunday” for it is celebrated annually on the Third Sunday of September, the 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, but in St. Joseph’s Academy, they celebrate it for five days. This is the time people reflect on the mission given to them by Christ. It is when they remember that they are witnesses of the Gospel. This year, it held the theme “Safeguarding the Dignity of Every Human Person.”

In Ms. Bautista’s introduction, she reminded everyone of what baptism is about. The theme says that the people of God are created in His image and likeness. It tells that their baptism is not just a sacrament given to them because they deserve to be welcomed in the Christian community, but it is both a mission and a blessing given by Christ so that they could actively preach His Word and cherish a human life guided and protected by Him. This sacrament tells that you must endeavor the teachings of Jesus, that you must live for Christ and at least try to do good because you were initiated in His name.

Mr. Hidalgo then elaborated the message of the theme through his opening remarks. He explained every word starting from “safeguarding.” This word means “protection,” and is synonym to being vigilant. The next word is “dignity,” which the students said to be the rights and privacy of every person. Mr. Hidalgo also explained the message of the theme: “We are created in the image and likeness of God.” He enlisted the reasons why:
1. Our God is a loving God. A man is also capable of loving.
2. Our God is good. A man, by nature, is good.
3. Our God is a merciful God. A man has a forgiving capability.
4. Our God is Trinitarian. A man is a social being.
5. Our God is powerful and almighty. A man is a steward of God’s living Creation.

After Mr. Hidalgo’s explanation, he introduced a shadow play prepared by the students from 10th grade. It showed how the Lord commanded to the man and the woman, “Go and subdue the Earth.” They did, but it came with disobedience. This play also reminded everyone of the sins created by men in this present world. It showed the threats to human dignity like *** change, same *** marriage, child abuse, prostitution, child labor, human trafficking, graft and corruption, premarital ***, abortion, impurity of mind and heart, cheating, laziness and bad vices.
The program ended with the announcement of all the activities that will be done during the Catechetical Week, including poster-making, quiz bees and door decorations.

Ultrasound allowed, enabled
and provided obstetrician to zoom,
image courtesy sonogram
showing fledgling fetus,
thus we pledged our troth after spouses' womb
(approximately halfway
between her pregnancy) did balloon
******, wherein conception
delineated birth of eldest daughter,
and many a tomb
morrow later she resides in Oakland, California.

I attempt reasonable rhyme about...
oh happy yesteryear
when newly minted groom (me) wed bride
family in attendance cried
as Justice of Peace officiated as legal guide
extolling pregnancy of she who could not hide
figurative bun in the oven which matured inside
after two gametes fused and multiplied
countless times quickly birthing embryo
baby on the way nullified
application of premarital ***
and attendant use of contraceptives.

Clear out of the blue
thee wife asked me
opinion if wedded bliss between us
ha, how heretical to think otherwise
since romance long since flew
out the figurative window
impossible mission to feign significant other
analogous to brand new
alluring, beguiling, captivating... tchotchke.

All kibitizing aside, a requited love with zeal
I attest invisible spokes support unseen wheel
when turning sparking genuine care and concern
act as buffer against emotional hemorrhage
and received good housekeeping approval seal
more applicable to most recent
elapsed wedding day anniversaries
ex post facto after both daughters flew the coop
finding me reeling with empty nest syndrome,
whenever yours truly reviews mental newsreel,
now absence of offspring, akin
to psychological wound I did heal
no longer mourning natural course
of begetting progeny more readily
accepting their necessary autonomy doth appeal.

Though marriage devoid of physical intimacy wife
get along swimmingly, we exhibit less strife
than days of yore effulgence promulgated
to all readers unbeknownst to human life
form characterized by bloke,
whose words appeared across screen
exemplifying, embodying, and edifying
regarding beloved simian counterpart
bandying playfully sometimes
drubbing and drumming my body
while she (commandeering
certain orifices of her body)
emulates sounds of fife.

Oh, saved and waiting many ladies state.
For that special man to give themselves.
No pleasure before marriage.

Saved and waiting.
Not that it's better than those that gave of themselves to someone they feel they love.

It's more like a preference.

Men, aware of that save and waiting take pride in that lady.
Propose to her and soon have a baby.
And then he left.

He never loved her but knew her story.
He played the part of an actor to achieve his goal.
And he succeeded in using her to his ways of thinking.

All because she pushed been saved and waiting for that special one.
And, now here she is with a child and no man because he has gone.

When friends?
Ask him did he ever love her?
He always replied an answer of no.

But to get her in bed to take her temple.
He used the game of manipulation of her been saved and waiting.
Taking advantage of her principles.

All because she was against premarital *** without marriage.
Now that he achieved his goal.

He replies to her once, there is nothing great about being saved and waiting.
But many women daily is used by an actor of pretense.

A week shy of eighteen months
constitutes the difference in age gap
between yours truly
(me - no longer that lithe lad,
with washboard stomach and narrow waist,
and the Herrin, a once slender sylph
at then one hundred and five pounds -
ideal for her towering
four foot eleven inch frame)
born July 6th, 1960
within the environs
of Philadelphia,* Pennsylvania
*derived from the Ancient
Greek terms φίλος phílos (beloved, dear)
and ἀδελφός adelphós (brother, brotherly).

Our initial encounter (of the third kind)
took place circa nineteen ninety four
on a warm summer evening
at Summit Presbyterian Church
6757 Greene Street, Philadelphia, PA 19119
and about two years later
both of us fêted as groom and bride
by fellow contra dancers.

Gamophobia (a fear of commitment
or fear of flying into marriage)
scared the bejesus out of yours truly
upon being asked point blank,
countless times soon after we dated,
and soon shared the same sleeping space,
(no matter we both lived with our parents),
which salient question
impossible mission to answer
"I do" after being asked

about pledging my troth - no fallacy -
promising such lifetime allegiance
subsequently pricked psyche
with heady undo anguished suffering,
yet verily barely hindered me,
to spear my stiff little minuteman
into miniature portcullis,
and hence expressed nonverbal predilection
to be fruitful and multiply
courtesy seething hormonal secretions,

she tacitly assented also
to experience concupiscence
and taste figurative verboten fruit
for consensual ****** intimacy
initially found me coquettishly flirting
daring to let fingers do the walking
across erogenous zones
easily gravitating toward physical intimacy
cavalierly riding *******,
throwing caution to the wind

hence no surprise
when the then girlfriend
******* pregnant news
about a bun in the oven
and intimated she objected
to birthing an offspring out of wedlock,
thus we concurred to pledge our troth
courtesy Judge Henry J. Schireson
of Narberth, Pennsylvania.

Upon our (yours truly and his missus)
exchanging holy matrimony vows
July twenty fifth nineteen ninety four
(another poem for that occasion)
ultrasound allowed, enabled
and provided obstetrician to zoom,
image courtesy sonogram
showing fledgling fetus,
thus we pledged our troth

after spouses' womb
(approximately halfway
between her pregnancy) did balloon
******, wherein conception
delineated birth of eldest daughter
five months later, and many a tomb
morrow later she then
when these words first drafted
resided in Oakland, California.

I attempted reasonable rhyme about...
oh happy yesteryear
when newly minted groom (me) wed bride
family in attendance cried
as Justice of Peace officiated as legal guide
extolling pregnancy of she who could not hide
welcomed into the pudding club,
which matured inside
after two gametes fused and multiplied
countless times after nine months
quickly birthing embryo
baby on the way nullified
application of premarital ***,
and attendant use of contraceptives.

Clear out of the blue
thee wife asked me
opinion if wedded bliss between us,
cuz I never profusely expressed affection
no matter head over heels
puppy love found found the missus
analogous to dizzy dame gone cuckoo
until completion of third trimester –
28 to 40 weeks signalled parturition due
ha, how heretical to think

swearing off copulation altogether,
and decry repeating the experience of childbirth,
nevertheless spouse warmed up
to begetting a second progeny
upon beholding beautiful bundle of joy
receptivity to estrus did ensue
since romance long since flew
out the figurative window
impossible mission to feign significant other
analogous to brand new
alluring, beguiling, captivating... tchotchke.

All kibitizing aside, a requited love with zeal,
I attest invisible spokes supported unseen wheel
when turning sparking genuine care and concern
delivering selflessness with role of motherhood
acted as buffer against emotional hemorrhage
and received good housekeeping approval seal
more applicable to most recent
elapsed wedding day anniversaries
ex post facto after both daughters flew the coop
finding me reeling with empty nest syndrome,
whenever yours truly reviews mental newsreel,
now absence of offspring, akin
to psychological wound I did heal
no longer mourning natural course
of begetting progeny more readily
accepting their necessary autonomy doth appeal.

Though marriage in our golden years finds us celibate
devoid of that indomitable physical intimacy
with once fecund wife
both she and I get along swimmingly,
we exhibit less strife
than days of yore effulgence promulgated
to all readers unbeknownst to human life
form characterized by bloke,
whose words appeared across screen
exemplifying, embodying, and edifying
regarding beloved simian counterpart
bandying playfully sometimes
drubbing and drumming my body
while she deliberates
fluted helmeted jiggly Johnson
emulating sounds of skin tight fife.

Despite being a nineteen year old bride
she wed Boyce Brandon Harris
half a decade her senior,
(where I ranked less than a twinkle in their eyes)
during the month of June 1955,
not quite half a century later ~ May 4th, 2005
death severed the pledge she did troth
linkedin wifely role,
cuz against her will she died
at most four weeks to be more exact
golden wedding anniversary never witnessed
raging against accursed grim reaper
countenance succumbed into collective sorrow

life force forever absent snatched away,
yet magically transformed
into the breathing edenic idyll
courtesy green thumb of eldest sister of mine
once livingsocial mother of ours
invoking trademark contagious l'chaim
flickering aura, charisma, instant karma
persona could not hide mommy dearest
physically eclipsed after
rigor mortis displayed deathly pallor
bonafide grateful dead
signed, sealed and delivered
human cargo into crematorium.

Born November 13th,1935,
the presence of long since deceased mother
her absence acutely recounted on said date,
no matter familial relationship between us,
who begat yours truly (me)
fraught with antipathy,
especially when writer of these words
felt he long overstayed his welcome
as I racked up living with parents
while being a long haired
pencil neck baby boomer geek
experiencing dating women for the first time
courtesy thursday night contra dance.

Books ravenously digested
and female protagonists he brood
as an illusory substitute for this dude
whose retreat into his bedroom
kindled like tinder unidirectional family feud
and donned Samson guise as a protective hood,
whereby Beatle browed,
foo fighting literate philosophical thinker
envied groovy hippies of the late nineteen sixties
riffing lyrics of fab four
fabled melody of Hey Jude,
where testosterone laden fantasies
triggered whet dreams housed lewd
seminal urges pestering spouse,
who offtimes rarely in the mood
for a quickie with the dickie.

Mein kampf as a thirty plus year old groom
test teasing prophylactics embarrassing
purchase never made at local drugstore
unsurprisingly, obviously, invariably...
birth control taboo subject, best to ignore
subsequently ******* awkwardly coordinated,
consummated, completed extempore
synonymous with ******* fulfillment
gonadal hormonal secretion
on par with the mythic sheet with a hole
through which ***** and archaic  
as modus operandi methodology
maternal grandparents supposedly copulated,
hence bun in the oven between self
and future missus Matthew Harris
wrought premarital *** bon jure.

I trot out essential tidbits of poem
acknowledging birthday of dear ole mom,
who succumbed to deadly terminal illness,
she lost lease on life, and met her demise
sooner than indomitable will clamored to live
approximately nineteen and a half years ago
from May 2024, who frequently asked me,
but never received acknowledgement
during her livingsocial years did abjure
(as the sole son)
communicating HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Impossible aery mission
to pinpoint when advent of zygote
triggering miraculous bitta bing bitta bang,
whence deoxyribonucleic acid wrote
legacy of mortal maternal demise
only a hunch backed up
that mystery to unleash
feral fiendish fornication once smote
yielded unicellular spore
while in utero ~ early/mid

February I ain't exactly sure
nineteen hundred thirty five - dirt poor
Harriet Harris, fourth, last born
(interesting enough shared same birthdate
with eldest sister twelve years her senior)
fetched vicinity Coney Island offshore
by stork, became favorite progeny begat
courtesy Morris, and then swore
celibacy forever more
Rebeckah Kuritsky heretofore

harbored inchoate genetic fore
boded, encoded, inscribed
deadly mutations housed,
fetched, dispatched and bore
flawed BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes sketched
affecting circumscribing her allotted mortality
orbitz equaling about six months shy
of three and a half score
unknowingly, unsuspectingly, unwittingly,
her biologic fatal demise indelibly etched.

Breast cancer first brush
sounded death knell
Harriet clocked approximately
six months shy of being a septuagenarian
orbitz around the sun,
she underwent grueling radiation
plus chemotherapy
carcinoma eradicated allowed,
enabled, provided breathing spell
reprieve accentuated, galvanized, punctuated...

newfound zealous zest almost
nothing could quell
significance pray tell
new lease on life to sell
lib berate cherish, relish, whish
each precious moment
thwarting pell mell
adversity with bon vivant elan
and gusto to issue rebel yell

kickstarting, making breast
livingsocial aye bell,
especially after despite... er... well
her double mastectomy,
she looked fabulously swell
courtesy silicon implants
slight downside reconstituted
racked ***** *****
susceptible to ooze gel.

Many years post remission telltale
diagnosis, viz ovarian,
despite requisite hysterectomy
emotionally did impale,
she instinctually, intuitively,
invariably, yet quiver and quail
against impending demise 24/7 did assail
guardian angel(s) of no avail,
nor did yours truly proffer nurturance
resentment smoldering within this male
red hot poker anger lambasting me

peppered with ultimatums to vamoose,
never got resolved ensuing estrangement
deterred reaching out to embrace,
hearing raspy fading breaths exhale,
miserably tethered with tubes
when she did severely pine ail
and grievously bewail
corporeal essence ashen pale
awkwardly, helplessly, stupidly... I stood
formidable grim reaper foe whisked mother
to Elysian fielded dale.