The poem you just read about my mother
isn’t about my mother per se
but rather
a typical mother figure
that I have been plagued with
at various times in my life.
I’m not saying that there aren’t elements
of my real
honest-to-Apollo mother
in that poem,
it’s just that
the character was more of an amalgam
a collaboration of parents I’ve experienced
heard about
met or married
at different points
during my voyages across this globe.

The mother referred to
in that poem
– and I’ll take from your silence
that you loved it –
is not my mother.
She’s a little like my mother
but not so much
that she would recognize herself
in my work
should she ever be troubled to read it.

Anyway,
the poem in question
was fundamentally true
if not necessarily honest
in all the particulars
(enough of an explanation
to keep legal off my back,
right?).