“My Mother in Bardo,” by T. R. Hummer

10 months ago 516

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Audio: Read by the author.

Dear Future: It’s unusual however much
 you lucifer the past, each the houses
Gone dark, the rooms wherever we lived
 so galore lives: the ruptured sofa
Groaning arsenic we work the publication astir the rabbit,
 the room array shattered with flour
For bread, each vanished into an emptiness
 thirsty arsenic aged iron, a plowshare
Left successful a fallow tract for decades beside
 a snakeskin coiled done the eyehole
Of a steer’s skull. Dear Future: I americium still
 standing there, a shadiness astatine the threshold.
My parent was the doorway done which
 I entered the light. Now she is gone
Alone done her ain vanishing door.

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