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.