happy birthday to the bag lady in paris!
and since i can not possibly get ahold of her, i am addressing this happy birthday greeting to the "other mother"...*corporate climber* and all around wild woman...
why i love my "mother"; an acrostic
b because nearly 33 years later, she will still get mad if i go outside with wet hair and no hat
a and still kinda thinks it's funny when i do an impersonation of her mother, but i bet she secretly wonders if i do an impersonation of her when she's not around...but is too smart to ask
g great big red poppies grow gloriously in her garden
l lies and says she doesn't have my phone number when lovestuck, pockmarked, homeless genius's who smell like cat pee call to get ahold of me
a and can say my name with absolutely pitch perfect disdain when irritated
d drives and talks with her hands at the same time
y you really need to stop this, mom
i i can not imagine a world in which i am not referred to as "shoo-shoo"
n nor do i want to
p paints her house like a mad fool in cool colors
a all i'm saying is if you look at the evidence, it's no mystery why i favor bandanas
r really uppity when given half the chance
i increasingly so as she gracefully ages
s she continues, to this day, to believe in phrases like "own your own shadow" and "not poor, resourceful" and "my people"...
happy birthday, mom!
i love you...
x.
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