my
mother
would
wake up
hung
over
from
too
much
wine
the
night
before
but
woke up
early
anyway
and
dumped
out
my
father’s
bedpan
then
cleaned him
up a bit
after
that
it
was
on
to us
clean
pants
&
white
shirts
she
wore
her
sunglasses
the sun
was
too
cruel
on
her
eyes
in
the
morning
when
all she
wanted
to do was
forget
her bad luck
for
a bit
when
we made
our
way
into
the church
the
people’s
eyes
were
dull
and
their
teeth
glistened
like
knives
while
the
preacher’s
voice
boomed
about
how to
get
to
hell
quick
the
only
thing
i
learned
praying
on bent
knees
was
that
in the
eyes
of
the multitudes
of
the gods
is
that
survival
is a
sin.
deuce coupe 