CuppaGemma

Coffee slugged late at night
ice cold, instant type, now almost
undissolved but we really don’t have
enough time to care about the taste
and only want something wet with
caffeine since we avoid tumbling
our bedsheets with the weight of today

Since you know me and I know you
are both stuck with brains that
don’t go off and actually can’t
since we are the engineer and the
oilwoman, the coal kid and conductor
for this maddening set of gears
called single motherhood

We stand with one arm folded
the other out like a crossing guard
in a bad mood on a wet day
our eyes grow grey as bullet steel
with rage as we are twice reprimanded for
not fitting on doe eyes to snare some Mr Kent
to descend and protect our curls from wear

We haul our own garbage into the sani truck,
haggle prices, cook dinner, wipe little tears
then scare the washer into starting again
because it is in its best interest not to
seize again until at least next Wednesday
then tell polite lies on behalf of empty
flower boxes giving dirt to nosy neighbors

There in the latest part of night
while the ringed white cups watch
our finished conversations
we are proud of our hands
defining us into worn and common
girls with rough graces pulling