Widows

It's almost Mother's Day
 Me and the other widows will commiserate
 Alone at Montessori again
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 Straddling two worlds
 Between the crush of single parenting
 And the need for wailing in the woods
 Around a slash pile burning
 Into the night with tear crusted eyes
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 I know I'm overcompensating
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 In this PTSD disorientation
 From my brief time in the rich part of the city
 Now my hands stink like salmon skin
 Left out in the rain in the ash
 Of the fire from last night
 I haven't bathed in a while
 And no one's near me
 If there's significance in where you live
 Let it all go and follow love and intuition
 Today the tabloids told the world you separated me
 And see what's there
 My phone began dinging more than usual
 In the open sky
 It was just like the day they found out that we'd gotten married
 Because we're all gonna die
 Unwanted attention
 From an inhumane delirious absurd
 other world that keeps trying to eat you
 
 I woke up quivering, raw, and heartbroken again
 Took my daughter to the garbage dump
 And rifled through the free pile
 And stood next to the pit
 The crows and ravens circling spoke to us
 And we spoke back to them
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 But nothing is real
 Except this one thing
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 Please remember at the bookstore in the poetry corner upstairs
 I slept with my head on your lap