I did not mean to do her harm
Her orange shine, her rusty charm
Was certainly undeserving.
And yet
It was I
And I alone,
That forgot the important things.
The kiss goodnight, the clean water.

And so it was.
She ran over my smallest finger first.
What use is there in naming,
Pinky, Mr. Ring Fing,
When they all end up ground, inseparable
A despicable and bloody marriage.

And all because of a flat battery!
Flat chested, flat footed, flat hearted
The fuel tank flooding and weeping,
Seeping its acrid juices
Into other organs, folding and bubbling like intestines.

Mother, mother
Don’t cry.

Soon they will attend to you,
Your eyes, your mouth
Shall be caressed and bandaged
Praised, for your long-lasting courage, your will
To survive against time
Abusive men and
Me.