You gave us jelly sandwiches
apricot orange staring bland
and lumpy at me.
Moaning at mother, crying
for the meat roll she gave
to her nasty obese kids…
Mother shooing me from Auntie Mona’s
ironing board
chasing me
to my father working
in the garden
“What are you doing father? ”
facing the soil he said nothing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem