Walls blink in shadows dancing together mother and daughter holding on for dear life.

So how do you measure love

Do you place it in a cup with marks

Or perhaps you take the sugar of pain

In tablespoons full

As the medicine goes down hard

Pale old black woman faces the audience

What hand holds the truth and which holds the fancy

Never a wish or a fever in love lost or torn into pieces

Lies a photograph showing laughter never happened

Just words in key formation from the old fool who

Left in wonders a precious woman and child to write

day and night a gift laid at the feet of Stephen King

A Hemingway twist

Two shadows collapse in a heap on an old mattress

Laughter is genuine and fills the stage coming from

every direction

keys still streaming words only a narrator could relate

walls tell the tales of take and give as time passes

age of child in footsteps of mother seem doomed to happen

father leads a well-healed life. Child makes due as many as she can

deals from the bottom make enough to expand legal horizons

Father laughs when they meet in a bedroom, she given a formal education.

School, chance, law school, defend mother for fathers death, his request.

Write it, make it sing, make it cry, bleed it for every dime.

Neon colored lights play across a ghastly figure at typewriter laughing

Insanely at mother and daughter sleeping on a mattress.