The mom on Mulberry

There’s a mom who gets drunk everyday. She lives on Mulberry street. I watch her as she breaks dishes in the kitchen. I watch her as she stands in the street, waiting with no expression on her face. I watch as she whispers to the birds on the telephone wire, but I can’t hear what she says. 

I live on Mulberry street, and each morning I wake to the sound of dishes crashing. 

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