I need 150 poems for my thesis,
but they have to be good poems.
If I write one good poem a day,
I can be done in 5 months!
That’s March 2015!
Yet, somehow I like focusing
on this un/attainable goal
rather than expend energies
hoping my mom’s dementia will recede.
Life keeps rolling along.
I swallow the inevitable sadness
that one day she’ll really be lost to us,
laying in bed, looking at us as strangers.
But for now, I can make her squeal
with shock when I tell her my grandson
I’m carrying is her baby!
Somewhere, some wavelength
in her head does the mathematical probability,
and she knows I’m joking.