Her Mother’s Daughter

after Angela Ball

To have red lipstick for a mother
is to pray for straight teeth.

To have a rice cake for a mother means
pouring skim milk over Special K.

To have a curling iron for a mother
is to long for blonde hair.

To have a streetlight for a mother
is to travel only in pairs.

To have a bible for a mother means
impeccable posture.

If your mother is a blue flame, you suck
ice cubes. Leave candles unattended.

My mother is a Sunday dress. I own
a spring-form pan, keep boxes of
graham crackers on hand.

My mother is a garden party. I shop
at white elephant tables, drink
tea from chipped china.

My mother is a carnival. I grow a
beard, try my luck with the
strong man.


danielle-devereauxDanielle Devereaux is presently at work on a manuscript of poems and a PhD.


One Response

  1. […] that isn’t pharmaceutical and highly addictive. What I can offer, though, is new poetry by Danielle Devereaux and Zachariah Wells from our forthcoming third issue. As for winter… well, you’ll just […]

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