Why I Needed To
because I faithfully reply to every email from the absurd
gods of urgency who punish my good deeds by leaving me
empty when I empty my inbox … because I praise hatingmyself, broken into my calendar’s time-slotted tasks, slicing
me thin with the thick duty of being everything yet nothing
to anyone, not even to me … because I remember birthdaysbut forget my own and my mother’s … because she is bitter
sweet as the Cuban coffee she brews after Sunday dinners …