the stench of kisses

my mother’s breath
always stank
of coffee and lipstick
and when she’d kiss me
goodbye
I quarreled with feelings
of affection and disgust
as I wondered why
she didn’t smell
more delicate
like I had imagined
the breath
of television mothers

she would sit at the kitchen
table blow drying her
long blond hair
watching
The Today Show
while my father
stood in the garage
smoking and drinking
chewing over the noose
regardless of temperature

and I wonder about parenthood
and I wonder about love

as I sit here at the kitchen table
drinking coffee and doing
a fat tap dance along
the keyboard
as she is in the other room
studying and talking to the animals

and I wonder about parenthood
and I wonder about love

and I wonder about the dance
and the animals the stench
of kisses of the other room
of the untold thoughts
of all shades of lipstick
come and gone
about the grand countdown
about the night owl
and the lark
about the undammed creeks
about the dammed
about biscuits and gravy
about vitamins
vitality
thanksgiving turkey
flashing lights
fire extinguishers
clear clean water
the bottom of the well
about Milton
about Hemingway
about Williams
about Stein
Burroughs
and Brautigan
forgotten
found
and reclaimed

and I wonder about parenthood
and I wonder about love

and I wonder about
the broken freezers
the broken flowers
the cold toes
the toasters
the television shows
the summer moon
the daily mail
the catatonic
and the schizophrenic
the princess and the toad

and I wonder about parenthood
and I wonder about love

I can’t tell you
anything
nothing that will
get you closer to god
or the railroad tracks
or the nursery rhymes
long since replaced
by limericks

my mother’s breath
always stank
of coffee and lipstick
and when she’d kiss me
goodbye
I quarreled with feelings
of affection and disgust

but the dogs will go on
barking and the gods
will go on quietly
judging
and what else
matters under the sun