poemranker ::The putrescent mother & her son. by Don-Quixote

DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

Ghazal № 100981

The putrescent mother & her son.

by Don-Quixote

Member since 2003 · Posted 8 May 2004 · Edited 27 May 2004 · 1 comment

Dreaming in solitude, a child sighs, quietly listening to the noon time melody of his mothers bitter yearning. The sticky-slick California sun that rises during June scorches and deep-fries his mothers' grim dimpled face. She lurks in the shadows of her pallid 'n dank kitchen, avoiding light; tears camouflaged by her foetid sweat. She stares at her sons' chair, covered in summers dust; her son avoids her spectre, as much as he possibly can. Polarized they shall remain- opposing each other forever; solitude her disease; isolation his only source of peace.

Rate it

0 is the worst, 10 the best. Pick a number, add a comment if you like, then send it. Keys: 0–9 pick, Enter sends.

mean 6.50 weighted 5.18 rank 4892 views 267 View voting details →

4 votes so far. Yours would make 5.4 votes so far

1 comment

[9] <{Baba^Yaga}> 28-May-04/11:50 AM Reply
Just fuck her and get it over with, you'll feel much better, and in the end? They only bring us here, they don't have any answers, trust me.
I spent my entire life thinking I had to fix my parents, and about ten minutes burying them both.
some people spend their entire lives in reverse and denial dude, just fucking looking for trouble.
When it gets right down to it some parents are helpful and an asset, and some our mere shit, and a liability, and... We all know what good dead weight is? Amputate that shit with a red hot spatula, and get on with your life.