 Just two weeks, I stand here before you in my mother's hand-me-downs In this world where mothers must work like they don't have children and parent like they don't have jobs Keeping households running and bills paid while their hearts run around outside their bodies on tiny little legs That don't yet know where the wolves are But don't you dare over mother them or under mother them or get anything wrong while treading laundry and Kung-Fu in the kitchen and oh, yeah If you could just save the world from nuclear Armageddon and Environmental collapse when you get a minute when you get a minute when you get a minute that'd be great. I Stand here before you in my mother's hand-me-downs With my mother's strangled voice and my mother's pine-soul hands and my mother's weeping back And my mother's feral chores and my mother's loving patients and my mother's gridded teeth And my mother's inner beauty that you never get to see her in a world of unheard symphonies and unpainted art and Oceans of sleeping babies neatly stuffed into a house coat drowned out by a fucking Helen Reddy song. I Stand here before you in my mother's hand-me-downs Glaring with cross-hair eyes at the eel-faced Manipulators who blacken the children's sky who poison my children's water who micro plastic my children's blood Who scotch my children's earth to turn billionaires into trillionaires bowing? I see you I will stop you Right after this dentist appointment right after this assignment right after these taxes right after this to-do list I will be ready to stop you like in two more weeks Maybe or maybe two weeks after that I Stand here before you in my mother's hand-me-downs With my mother's intuition two eyes in the back of her head. I can see what you are doing But my many eyes can only glance before more dishes pile up before the to-do list unfurls I'll get to it. I'll get to you. I will stop you. I will I see what you are doing But I just need to take the kids to daycare and make the sandwich just first and stop off on the way to work for a Part to fix the air-con before the summer comes before the heat you stoked with dinosaur bones and canary island Loop holes and the infantile ambitions of impotent men hits our little rental I'm so grateful to have so grateful on my hands and knees grateful. You're cooking my mouth grateful Please don't kick us out. We love you We do like a solar wind storm Barbecuing my children in this tent made of weather boards like a tiny funeral pyre for bad women Naughty witches ladies flying solo who need to be put in their place Just two weeks Just two weeks just two fucking weeks more just two weeks and I'll sit in silence for a while Just two weeks and I'll write this all down Just two weeks. I just need to get some stuff done just two weeks Just two weeks Just two weeks and I'll stop you