A poem

by josephzizys

too many weeks
with too little sleep
coughing from the chest
the crying child
demands too much
of an exhausted mother
little things don’t work
catastrophes far away
alter our delicate balancing act-
deprive us
of our small supports –
and we fall down
the eldest, just four and a half
sensing something he cannot comprehend
becomes hysterical
it is a hot day
and we have obligations
we have to go
then my 2 year old
tries to stick his dick
into a large lego block