by Sam Herschel Wein

              I show up 
my mother says
              to your readings 
she starts to cry
              and you write 
              about me like I’m the villain 
              in your life. 
My dad sits. He is wearing a tie. 
She has removed her good shoes.
I am on the bed, with a red face.
              All I did was drive you to soccer practice
we sit in a silence
heavy as calico comforters kicked
off the bed, furled on the floor.
How do I explain? 
It wasn’t just soccer. 
It was evening guitar, and baked goods, 
and helping me move, and and 
and. But never admitting that she hated 
that I was gay. That she couldn’t hide it.

              The poems are working, I said. We are sitting 
              here. We are beginning this conversation. And.





____

Sam Herschel Wein (he/they) is a Chicago-based poet who specializes in perpetual frolicking. Their second chapbook, GESUNDHEIT!, a collaboration with Chen Chen, was part of the 2019-2020 Glass Poetry Press Series. He co-founded and edits Underblong. Recent work can be found in perhappened mag, The Adroit Journal, and Sundog Lit, among others.