Liquid

I love today’s poem (Albert Goldbarth’s “Liquid“). The way it ends, with the portrait of the speaker’s mother, is so good. And at the beginning, the portrayal of the math teacher… so right, so true…

…And Mrs. Sommerson,
the Great Stone Face my mother called her,
regent of the Eighth-Grade Algebra Kingdom, she
who pity’s violin strings couldn’t move a quarter inch
from her unyielding scowl and decimal-pointed grade book …
when one evening I was late in leaving,
and quietly making my passage
down those eerily untenanted halls, I saw
her home room door was opened just enough to show her
at her desk, in tears, her head held in her hands
with such an autonomous weight, she cradled it
as if trying to rock into comfort a terrorized infant…

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