Comfort Food

Fuck it!
I want ice cream.
Sweet fat tickling my tongue
tempting out my child.
You know,
the playful excited one
sent to cross the street for something sweet.

Hit me hard he'd say
stupid with booze.

So...
away with mom.
Away from Dad Drunk.
Into a kind an california evening
onto the peace of a San Diego sidewalk.

Here's a dollar,
fetch a cone.
Cross the street and I'll have two scoops please.
Chocolate!

Now I run to reach her

My mother as she fades.