in my mamas bosom

i would bury my eyes

wet with salty seas

and talk about how

rodney jones snatched

my cotton candy and

buried it in the sand today and

miss adams didnt

even do a thing like

make him sit in the

corner the way she

would do me when id

hit somebody and andy

white kissed me when i

wasnt even lookin and

mama would rock me

close with a rhythm

i knew well

and hum one of those

old familiar gospels

and read me an appropriate

passage from the scriptures

that i never quite

understood and when those salty

seas dried and trails of crust

decorated my face my

mama would wet her finger in her

mouth and cleanse me

again and that warm

silky moistness

would make me forget my lament and id

attach an extra thank

you at the close of my

prayers for the gift of

my mama