would lie to me just one time
And let me see Angelina Jolie
Or Hepburn in her prime.
Instead it taunts me each pale morn
as fluorescent lights do hover,
That I’ve become, since I was born,
A reflection of my mother.
Her platitudes of, “Don’t wear that,
People will think we’re poor”
Are word for word, though absurd,
Straight from her general store.
If by chance, you dare slipped by
The front door sans inspection,
Such great dismay, your jeans are frayed !
Here comes wardrobe intervention.
Stand up straight and eye contact
All tied to "please" and "thank you"
Understand chain of command
as in; All adults outrank you.
Never use a salad fork,
When a dinner fork is needed,
And elbows off ! Those who scoff
May find their seats, unseated.
I hear myself bark out in verse
A litany of her best hits,
“Why buy the cow?” or “Speed the plough!”
And yes, wear it, "if the shoe fits".
I miss her quirky sage advice
Her terms of non-surrender,
Her midnight calls, her lack of walls,
Her radar for pretenders.
We shall not see her kind again,
As she would oft remind me.
But DNA, shall have its way
Just look for her, you’ll find me.
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