[Mama would tell me] - a poem



Mama would tell me

she’d been all over

hell and half of Georgia

looking for me

when I spent too long riding my

bike around the neighborhood

or smoking candy cigarettes

outside the gas station.


I believe her now,

that she would traverse

the mean streets of Atlanta,

reach the heights of Anna Ruby Falls

and the depths of Tallulah Gorge,

to bring me home.


I believe her now,

that she would dive

into the rotten cesspool,

the flaming lake,

the infinite void,

to bring me home.


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