i did not always like my mother or father
they told lies and i knew when they told lies

like my father coming home about once a month and trying to talk all sweet to my mother and my mother yelling about money and where have you been you smell like beer and why can’t you get a job and my best friend your sister damnit saw you at The Fox Club hugging up on some other woman and getting mad because she wouldn’t kiss you on the dance floor

and my father saying it wasn’t me

and my mother

poor mother

looking at her feet and at first saying well your sister was drunk
she told me that much
and i’ve seen her drunk

who can believe her

and my mother

my poor mother

looking at the floor and saying to my father

well i don’t know

how could i know

and taking him in her arms and kissing him and starting to rush around the kitchen for him like he was a god or something

chopping garlic and jalapenos and throwing together all that red powder she throws together to make enchiladas

and my father saying i need a beer is there any beer left

and my mother saying right in front of me

i drank it
when she knew i knew i saw her

i saw her

i saw her pour it down the sink the last time my father had left

and my father saying
swaying

well i need some more

and asking me to go with him to the liquor store

and because i said no

he was gone

and my mother started talking about things might be different this time

things might be different

and i got this huge

this bigger than the moon

this bigger than the sun

feeling in my stomach

in my throat

this thing too big for an eight-year-old

this thing that wanted to explode and

and

i screamed to my mother as she stirred that red powder in a bowl

i hate you

i hate you

then heard the door opening and my father walking in

six pack in one hand

vodka shooter tipped to his lips

and him saying to me

we’re gonna plant that garden in the back this summer

and i saw a motorcycle

it was used but it looks like it might run

let’s go get that

next weekend

and i saw my mother, my poor mother

staring at the kitchen floor

her lips moving

begging to her gods

for my father, my poor father

to stay

stay more than one day

yet i can hate them no more
even though she lied
even though he lied
i know by my mother’s prayer
that my parents wanted a truth
bigger than the both of them.

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