POEM BY SAM ELLEFSON

Memories

my mother smoked heavily in her youth and wove her hand through intricate verbal amalgams

she lived in trepidation of mania and wrote letters to her past self

my father drank as a teen, enticed by the prospects of moral maturity

he worked odd jobs and was raised in a petite, peculiar flyover town—we visit once in a blue moon

familial memories fade, and the remnants are scattered like shattered stained glass

strewn across my mind, tinged with inquisition and regret

like gulls encroaching on a child’s ice cream delight

fluttering meagerly, just enough to sustain flight

i’m reminded of my progenitors by the fluctuating tides of intrusive thought, of anecdotal asides that cause a tinge of social jealousy for which i feel selfish

persistent self-pity and transformative morals cause rifts in my navigation of this inhabitance, and the path to reconciliation is hidden under the guise of lazy demur

weathered soles and aching ribs, my body a sullen reminder of destructive tendencies, of nihilistic self-preservation and cynical self-esteem

and despite my unwavering contempt, i’ve grown accustomed to broken bones and painful memories