And Movie Mothers are Monsters

I've consumed all the poetry on the destruction of the self, and how many mothers cast the first stone

And all I can think is about that stagnation and motherhood are treated as synonyms, and what a rotten comparison to draw

My mother inhales cruelty like a tree breathes carbon dioxide, and similarly exhales something that gives life

She isn't immune to it. I watch it eat her up

And all I think is

A movie wouldn't give her the grace of private agony

But she has not raised word or hand to harm me, not with the intention or venom of any mother on film

She's no blundering thing

Perhaps the monsters on film are not a tribute to the failings of mothers around this sphere of life

But a dripping contrast against my own. 

Written in a haste after thinking about the tenuous relationship between mothers and daughters on film. Ladybird, Barbie, Everything Everywhere All At Once…

There are endless poems about the failings of mothers. You can search “mother poem” on any engine and find thousands of poems about the doomed narrative of mothers, the corruption of motherhood, the pain and agony of generational trauma, anything. But you really can’t find that many about mothers in a positive light.

My mom isn’t some movie monster meant to represent the apparently natural failings of the relationship between mother and daughter. What a horrible idea! So I wrote this instead.

I love you mama.