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My mamma's coarse hands.

i'm sad sitting on the subway heading to christie

there is an old man who reminds me of my father

he sits having a conversation with himself and

he smites at me and I smite back turn my headset

off my drug is ready the doors opening i get up to leave

pushing my hands in my coat and it feels the way it felt when

i touched my mamma's coarse hands lines runnin everywhere

blood not concerning her shruggin it off and sayin cooking and

doing the dishes i feet like a mistake tonight entering my

empty apartment with the thought of my daddy sitting staring

desperately at the blaring talk show white mamma washes

the dishes from the night before

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No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 1998 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

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Author:Nadda, Ruba
Publication:Canadian Dimension
Date:Nov 1, 1998
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