A woman walked in, sat next to my desk, <br />said, “You know, my son is insane.” <br />“And you are…” <br />“The mother of Irving Mandelbaum.” <br />Not looking a bit like Iriving I said, ”Oh” <br />which she must taken the wrong way <br />because she said, “Last time I checked my pussy.” <br />“Oh” again, this time slowly rising <br />not wanting to upset the woman <br />whose hand suddenly gripped my wrist <br />preventing any further escape. <br />Taking a different path I asked, “Do you <br />work out? ” my entire arm now throbbing. <br />“Not taking Thorazine any more, ” she said smiling, <br />then moving closer whispered, “From his father, <br />the insanity, not me.” <br />Another try: “Iriving’s a bit high strung but…” <br />Even closer now saying, “You saved <br />my dear Iriving’s life.” <br />A smell: marijuana, honey, bananas in deep decay, <br />possibly all three. <br />“Without you he’d be by now a dead fat boy.” <br />“I try, ” I said, always glad to hear I did a bit of good, <br />although in this case couldn’t figure out my gift. <br />“He writes poetry, ” she said, tears now <br />moving even closer breasts an inch from my face <br />nipples doing something under the tight shirt, <br />finally, “All because of you <br />calm now, calmer, blowing fart bubbles <br />in the bathtub, scribbling away with the special <br />underwater pen I bought him.” <br />I stared at the mother of Irving Mandelbaum <br />calmer myself <br />her happiness somehow <br />shifted into me.<br /><br />Charles Chaim Wax<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/open-school-night-at-spinoza-hs/
