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Hallway Terrors

Looking up,
working to calculate the ceiling tiles,
mouth open in stupefaction,

I hear the maddening stomping
of Mother coming down the hall.
The tempo and the volume demonstrate
clearly: I am in deep shit.
The standard fist
slams the kitchen counter.
I ponder hiding,
fear the sound of her thunderous
pounding coming down the stairs,
beating them as a bass drum,
question whether or not she has
that overweight cast-iron pan.

But she died so very long ago,
and there is no floor above me at work.
Maybe she is here.
Terror haunts me, but I love her still.
When will she let go?

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  1. #1 by liv2write2day on February 11, 2011 - 4:34 pm

    Heart-wrenching. Mothers have such an influence on our entire lives and it must be hard to escape that feeling of terror.

    • #2 by Carl on February 11, 2011 - 10:04 pm

      Yes, they have amazing influence, and I am still learning about that. My mother was Jekyll and Hyde. She left us with so many beautiful things including our affinity for arts of all kinds.

  2. #3 by Evelyn on February 11, 2011 - 9:01 pm

    oh my God Carl.
    my skin is crawling.
    “The tempo and the volume demonstrate
    clearly: I am in deep shit.”

    my heart almost stopped at this line
    “question whether or not she has
    that overweight cast-iron pan.”

    wow. Im so in awe of you.

    • #4 by Carl on February 11, 2011 - 10:07 pm

      Oh, you, thank you for being so kind to me!

  3. #5 by kolembo on February 11, 2011 - 9:13 pm

    Aieeee! And I run screaming…aieeee…you’re so up my alley, it’s unreal. Please do not tell me that these came all at once, for then I am lost…!

    • #6 by Carl on February 11, 2011 - 10:22 pm

      Oh, thank you! You are so generous. It is nice when we don’t have to sing alone.

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