This was published in Be About It Zine.
If a wicked (step-) mother fails to kill
you there may come a day when her RA* may
flutter her frail fingers until she will
require assistance from one she betrayed
or expire. Can’t twist plastic water caps
to take a sip, and she isn’t the kind
to trust what drips from community taps —
the toxins inside. Each time this is opined
you grind your teeth underneath a princess smile
remembering apples this one coated
with guile — how death laid you low a little while.
It does not baffle her you’re devoted
to the details of her elder care.
The mind of the monster is no longer there.
*rheumatoid arthritis
Kristin Garth & Pink Plastic House a tiny journal 