Lawrence Carradini

LITTLE MOTHER

She told me her whole life story.
Married to a guy who knocks three times,
goes out on a bike
and stays away
in a coma.
"I'm only 48.  Three kids.  Can't read.
ME!  Not the kids.  That's my baby
girl.  She was a
bitch   to deliver.  Nineteen -- 72."
"78, Ma."
"That's right.
I became a coke head.  I don't believe
in that.  The kids these days.  I'm clean.
Was depressed.  Look at me now.  I cook.
I make a living.  I love God's green earth.
This guy over here is beautiful.  I would...
Can you buckle my shoes?  Can't reach.
I've got the devil in me. It's the only way
to survive.  Don't write a poem about these
drunks.  Write a poem     about      me."

Location: Lowell, Massachusetts Email: lcarradini@earthlink.net Publications: Salt Hill, Kettle of Fish, The Muddy River Poetry Review, Mobius, PoetryBay, The Cafe' Review, Long Island Quarterly, PoLARITY, (translated into Chinese) Contemporary Foreign Literature - Nanjing University, Dialogue Through Poetry - 2001 Anthology, etc. Books: Concept #3, Poetry Showcase, Burning Heads Awards: Honorable Mention, 1994 Richard A. Seffron Memorial Poetry Award - Hyacinth House Publications

- May 2002 - Memory Selection Little Mother Lust for Light Lines when we moved back here Valentine (Funny how we assumed) Leaving Left The Equation The Revenge Julia Letter to my Sister A Voice Touching In Miniature Smog - Erin Elizabeth's Favorite Six - For Gala-Salvador Dali For our dead cat . . . A Poem to My Left Breast Sadie and jamie wouldn't eat her dinner. Scratching A Sound From My Throat, Waiting For The Room To Clear