Harriet Harris née Kuritsky...

Despite being a nineteen year old bride

she wed Boyce Brandon Harris

half a decade her senior,

(where I ranked less than a twinkle in their eyes)

during the month of June 1955,

not quite half a century later ~ May 4th, 2005

death severed the pledge she did troth

linkedin wifely role,

cuz against her will she died

at most four weeks to be more exact

golden wedding anniversary never witnessed

raging against accursed grim reaper

countenance succumbed into collective sorrow

life force forever absent snatched away,

yet magically transformed

into the breathing edenic idyll

courtesy green thumb of eldest sister of mine

once livingsocial mother of ours

invoking trademark contagious l'chaim

flickering aura, charisma, instant karma

persona could not hide mommy dearest

physically eclipsed after

rigor mortis displayed deathly pallor

bonafide grateful dead

signed, sealed and delivered

human cargo into crematorium.

Born November 13th,1935,

the presence of long since deceased mother

her absence acutely recounted on said date,

no matter familial relationship between us,

who begat yours truly (me)

fraught with antipathy,

especially when writer of these words

felt he long overstayed his welcome

as I racked up living with parents

while being a long haired

pencil neck baby boomer geek

experiencing dating women for the first time

courtesy thursday night contra dance.

Books ravenously digested

and female protagonists he brood

as an illusory substitute for this dude

whose retreat into his bedroom

kindled like tinder unidirectional family feud

and donned Samson guise as a protective hood,

whereby Beatle browed,

foo fighting literate philosophical thinker

envied groovy hippies of the late nineteen sixties

riffing lyrics of fab four

fabled melody of Hey Jude,

where testosterone laden fantasies

triggered whet dreams housed lewd

seminal urges pestering spouse,

who offtimes rarely in the mood

for a quickie with the dickie.

Mein kampf as a thirty plus year old groom

test teasing prophylactics embarrassing

purchase never made at local drugstore

unsurprisingly, obviously, invariably...

birth control taboo subject, best to ignore

subsequently intercourse awkwardly coordinated,

consummated, completed extempore

synonymous with phallic fulfillment

gonadal hormonal secretion

on par with the mythic sheet with a hole

through which prude and archaic

as modus operandi methodology

maternal grandparents supposedly copulated,

hence bun in the oven between self

and future missus Matthew Harris

wrought premarital sex bon jure.

I trot out essential tidbits of poem

acknowledging birthday of dear ole mom,

who succumbed to deadly terminal illness,

she lost lease on life, and met her demise

sooner than indomitable will clamored to live

approximately nineteen and a half years ago

from May 2024, who frequently asked me,

but never received acknowledgement

during her livingsocial years did abjure

(as the sole son)

communicating HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Impossible aery mission

to pinpoint when advent of zygote

triggering miraculous bitta bing bitta bang,

whence deoxyribonucleic acid wrote

legacy of mortal maternal demise

only a hunch backed up

that mystery to unleash

feral fiendish fornication once smote

yielded unicellular spore

while in utero ~ early/mid

February I ain't exactly sure

nineteen hundred thirty five - dirt poor

Harriet Harris, fourth, last born

(interesting enough shared same birthdate

with eldest sister twelve years her senior)

fetched vicinity Coney Island offshore

by stork, became favorite progeny begat

courtesy Morris, and then swore

celibacy forever more

Rebeckah Kuritsky heretofore

harbored inchoate genetic fore

boded, encoded, inscribed

deadly mutations housed,

fetched, dispatched and bore

flawed BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes sketched

affecting circumscribing her allotted mortality

orbitz equaling about six months shy

of three and a half score

unknowingly, unsuspectingly, unwittingly,

her biologic fatal demise indelibly etched.

Breast cancer first brush

sounded death knell

Harriet clocked approximately

six months shy of being a septuagenarian

orbitz around the sun,

she underwent grueling radiation

plus chemotherapy

carcinoma eradicated allowed,

enabled, provided breathing spell

reprieve accentuated, galvanized, punctuated...

newfound zealous zest almost

nothing could quell

significance pray tell

new lease on life to sell

lib berate cherish, relish, whish

each precious moment

thwarting pell mell

adversity with bon vivant elan

and gusto to issue rebel yell

kickstarting, making breast

livingsocial aye bell,

especially after despite... er... well

her double mastectomy,

she looked fabulously swell

courtesy silicon implants

slight downside reconstituted

racked busty bosom

susceptible to ooze gel.

Many years post remission telltale

diagnosis, viz ovarian,

despite requisite hysterectomy

emotionally did impale,

she instinctually, intuitively,

invariably, yet quiver and quail

against impending demise 24/7 did assail

guardian angel(s) of no avail,

nor did yours truly proffer nurturance

resentment smoldering within this male

red hot poker anger lambasting me

peppered with ultimatums to vamoose,

never got resolved ensuing estrangement

deterred reaching out to embrace,

hearing raspy fading breaths exhale,

miserably tethered with tubes

when she did severely pine ail

and grievously bewail

corporeal essence ashen pale

awkwardly, helplessly, stupidly... I stood

formidable grim reaper foe whisked mother

to Elysian fielded dale.