melancholy
In the 9th Circle of Hell I Found My Mother
In the 9th circle of Hell
I found
My mother,
Wearing her wrap dress and,
Even now,
In heels,
Click, clack
The sound of my childhood
Returned to me like a fever dream –
In Hell she does her sowing, Her
knitting,
Her compulsive cleaning of surfaces
And dreams,
Making everything sterile,
Making sure that everything is
How she would like it to seem
To neighbors,
Sinners,
My mother was always so
“Holier than thou” –
Well look at you now,
Mother,
Nine circles in for
Betraying those who loved
You, in the frigid cold –
And hell has frozen over
For you.
—
Gabriela Jatene is in her final year of study as an English major at Barnard College of Columbia University in the City of New York.
Be the first to write a comment.
Your feedback