the cat puts her face into mine

amid the detritus of our room

laser printed target receipt, crumbled ricola wrapper

a poem written in every cynical point

of view like tonight when the boy says

i don't need desert because i already had mine

when i gave you the flowers earlier 

and the realization that not everyone

is trying to get something 

over on you. 

 how sad, you think

that you can't appreciate innocence

when it rears its big blue eyes. 

instead it eats at me, as if this child

is playing some long con

to make me think he's innocent

and all lovey of me as the favorite of all the

mom's substitutes-for -mom

he  bounces between. he's smart enough

to know he'll be with us next year

when school starts because mom 

is still absent without notice so he better

get on my good side but omg woman

is that how you think a five year old thinks 

for real that he doesn't long to have that

mommy who tucked him into bed

who never actually tucked him

that one that used to watch him on 

infrared camera as he struggled to fall asleep

never really making  a peep, no sounds

as he tossed on his bed til finally

sleep took him down and how now he 

dutifully takes the melatonin that knocks him

out. he likes it, he doesn't miss his momma's

how many kisses do you want ritual

it was not around for long, he's happy drifting

off in the ending silence after  a goblins by request story

so  to think he says that to build 

trust in his con, after he's already snuck the robin's eggs

from the top of the frig and yes 

i checked, he did

not

is to forget how i sent to him to his room

after he hit me in the stomach-not hard but -

yelling get in there till i don't

wanna hit you no more.