Susan Maurer
2221
She beat him down to his little animal
The sharp bones in her forearms
Left marks the doctors couldn’t translate
It was good to let it all out and finally he stopped running
around
But the crying, she hit him again and again for that
Until she was numb
She stopped
There was no blood; only marks which turned to bruises
She pointed out to the police when they took him away
Dickie didn’t want to go
He held out his arms and they had to pull him away
He cried and his nose ran but they took him
He cried for his mother in the foster home
Though the foster mother never hit him
All night and the next day either
He cried at breakfast, the wrong kind of cereal
Faces he didn’t know
He wanted his mother
“Ma, ma,” he cried
She sat on the foam rubber sofa
Knowing she’d hit him like she’d been hit
She missed him like a torn of f arm
But she couldn’t say it wouldn’t happen again
Page(s) 176
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