Author Information
Caster
God bless my mother
who,
through 22 years,
saw weakness, hypocrisy, fear,
the very monstrous sickness
of her child.
And all the while,
not an echo stirred
of her love.
Not a ripple formed
in waters of judgment.
She, who knows me second-best,
withstood the test
of stone-casting,
leaving me
unpelted,
and granting me
infinite chances.
So I question
the undertaking
of passersby,
who point,
laugh and cry and string
assessments from a single hair.
Well...
Fuck you.
Point that finger
up your ass.
Because talking shit leaves gas,
and God loves his air.
