On bad days,
the sound system was released from under its covers
the record was unsheathed
put on the turntable
the lights were put on dim,
and Momma would dance to “I Will Survive.”

This was for low days
when depression had set in.
There might have been problems with men
or work
or friends
that I would know nothing about
but the solution would be
a shot of Gloria Gaynor
– sometimes a triple.

I could understand the song
to a degree
about a woman done wrong
by a man
who wouldn’t love her right
and I felt helpless to support my mother.

I could only be there
to offer silent testimony
to Momma’s tribulations.

The dancing seemed to help.
She appeared better
after several repetitions.

I later would hear a male version
by Cake
that I could call my own.
I like Cake.