Flashing Lights

You said you married your

mother I said we all

do But I never met

your mother I didn’t

understand Until

you wrote of your first mem

ory The flashing red

and blue lights on the walls

of your bedroom Police

summoned to restore peace

Of the mirror you took

with you when she locked you

in her closet so you

could practice your look of

indifference Of the

hot oil from the frying

pan she threw on your legs

which left scars I saw as

we ran You said you

married your mother But

I didn’t understand

I had not met your wife

Until she wrote to me

using words like hot oil

to scar my soul Until

she locked you in her clos

et You seem indiffer

ent Did you take a mir

ror with you this time too

I’ve called the cops Their lights

are flashing red and blue