Mark's Mom
Your father would be rolling
over in his grave
if he could see the way
you are turning out,
hanging out with kids
who are allowed to stay
out all night long
and never open a book.
Your last report card
a long row of D’s and F’s
with comments like
lacks motivation
not trying
shows disrespect.
It almost made me glad your father
didn’t have to see it. His
face would have fallen,
the lines around his mouth
grown tighter and deeper.
All those years of driving
a cab to the airport,
fighting traffic,
hauling bags,
so you could get
the education he missed
out on back in Lebanon
because his family
had to flee the war
when he was fifteen.
And now this yellow car,
your constant companion,
a new girl every month
her head hanging out the window
like a gargoyle,
flashing a pretty smile
at the world.
What does her mother think?
Does she know her daughter
is out till all hours
driving around
god knows where
doing god knows what?
And, if she does, is she
as scared as me?