Becoming My Mother
(from WIP Smoke in the Afterlife)
It was bound to happen. After all those years
watching her tilt gin to her swollen mouth
and listening to the cool pull and swallow;
I have become my mother. I have become
that woman, ranting with the winestain
on her cheek no larger than a dime,
full breasted as a dove, spirited, sad.
I have found myself in her skin,
seethed with her rage, bloomed with the proud
flower of her sex, succumbed to its passion.
I have turned my coal-hard eyes
against the world and met its stare
measure for measure, listened to its songs
and grievances, ignored its tender cries.
I have even fed from her bottle, beaten
a path inside her toward the landless dark,
to find the place where she hides,
to understand why she doesn’t leave.
About the writer:
Emilio Iasiello has published poetry in the following journals: Eclipse, Concrete Wolf, Brilliant Corners, Natural Bridge, New York Quarterly, Webster Review, Whiskey Island, Soundings East, Voices West, Wilshire Review, Mediphors, Mobius, Lucid Stone, Metropolitan, Visions, Red Ochre Press, and Parnassus. He has written two other books: a collection of short stories, Why People do What They Do, and a nonfiction narrative, Chasing the Green. Iasello has also written for the stage and screen and has had numerous works produced in New York, Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., and London, UK. His film credits can be found here.
Image: Untitled painting by Agnieszka Kruszyn’ska, Poland.