The following vlog was inspired by James Franco’s poetry reading he recently did for Obama’s inauguration. (Franco was very good in Freaks and Geeks, love him.)
It’s a poem about being a mom.
A mom desperate to get through yet another hectic morning without having a nervous breakdown.
Watch my video to see if I can make it through another day.
Mourning My Morning
In the earliest unborn hours of the morning, my heart beats, frantic with a
rushing of blood, pounding incessantly…
Overshadowed only by the digusting guttural groans emanating
from my husband’s gaping maw
as he snores and slumbers beside me…
I want to reach out, slam his windpipe with my pillow–
–but I resist–
Morning breaks, my mind cracks like an egg
dripping over the edge of a moldy crust,
undercooked and runny
Needs more salt.
But sandwiches are to be peanut buttered!
juice boxes to be tossed around!
hair to be untangled!
Untangle the mess….
a frantic dance of
Have you seen my socks?
Where are the keys?
Will you help me construct a diorama of a rainforest using only toothpicks and glitter?
….Mrs. Hardison says it’s due today
“Someone spilled my Cheerios!” I cry.
“Look! All over the floor!”
“Did you spill them?” I ask my son.
His attention elsewhere…always elsewhere….
“Someone spilled my CHEERIOS!”
I wail, my plantive cry falling on deaf tween ears, ears that only respond to digital beeps.
My son–hazel eyes forever glued to the tiny magic box, glowing ghastly white.
“Someone spilled my cheerios….”…I sputter to no one, hopeless,
the taste of sweet oats and honey forever lost to my lips.
He finally turns his head, raises his brow,
and the insidious words roll off his tongue
like water off a paritally submerged iPhone in a dirty toilet:
“Whatevs, Mom” he says.