Four Poems by Andy Young w/ 3 Paintings by Moira J. Saucer

IceFloe Press

My Mother’s Skull is Opened the First Time

post-surgery scan
shows inflammation

a gray sea around

a dark emptiness
hole where tumor lodged
size of a child’s fist

shoving out frontal
lobe tissue where lives

higher level cog-
nitive functioning
no way to excise

pathology says
tentacles return
no matter standard

of care or candles
lit at Saint Jude’s shrine
my mother’s devout

she touches her beads
still takes the wafer
wears lipstick with her

headband of staples

Bird Watching

The day after my mother died,
I went to find the Indigo Buntings
and I’m sure one lit
in the branches ahead
but I suck at binoculars.
Over here my mother said.
She was a crow.
Figure out how to see me.
Then she cawed four times,
her eyes drops of ink,
her feathers black and flat
like what? Knives? A night lake?
Who gives a shit.
I don’t…

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