In Which a Mother Smokes Marijuana

After the blood appeared, small spots of uncertainty
After the first slice through the fleshy abdomen
After pacing, smoking, waiting
After the wound widened, the womb exposed
After a year of hope, of almost normal
After a visit to Florida, to her husband’s brother
and his wife, palm-treed roads, sun a helmet,
laughter slapped among waves
After the doctor again, the body mapped,
the body exposed, poisoned with hope
After the pills, the vomiting, tiger-clawed, ripped
The uncle gets it, a small bag, rolled with
clumsy fingers, the smoke inhaled
After she coughs, her eyes tear, she bends
double, cannot bear weed, air, anything 

Tinderbox Poetry Journal
Vol. 4 Issue 4