The horde against the self
(your dementia and me)
This horde that inhabits me
Like a mad stallion
Tugging at my heartstrings
Throbbing bite
Tears of acid and lead
This horde is yours
It is so hard loving you
You throw your horses in fury
Your horde with stirrups of lightning
Against your soul
And you’re surprised that you’re tired!
You hold back your demons
at the while whipping them
You overwhelm yourself with riddles
without measuring
what it costs me to carry you
fragile child, at arm’s length,
across the Atlantic
You ooze and I am delirious
in a burst of poetry
your merry-go-round panics me, overwhelms me
volatilizes me
Burn me with your madness!
Your horde against your voice,
against itself
against the senses
against all extensions of the mind
It is the high-pitched counterpoint of worry,
of your worries
Burn yourself of me!
Burn me from you!
I am strong,
but the horde is mightier than me
I love you too much, Mama…
