• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 10
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Mother had a wall
of photos
of those adored
and famous
and would light
candles to them
and stroke the images
and glare at me,
then a toddler,
beneath them.
You're already so small,
she would say,
but next to this wall
of titans
you seem less
than the dot
at the end of
a sentence.
You seem like the
of an atom.
You seem
like the rumor
of a person
long after
he has ceased
being discussed.



She'd touch
an image
of a young man
with coltish smile
and a mane of blond
and say, he!
Behold him!
Nothing in his life is small!
He lives
at the top
of a hill
above the
Hollywood sign
and he is,
I am told,
seven feet tall
and counting.
Put him next to you
and would we even see you?

She met
a starlet once
by accident
out shopping
and while everyone else
clamored for autographs
my mother
literally disappeared
We are nothing!
Nothing in your presence!
She tried to take me too,
wherever she went,
but I would not go
and have not seen
her since.