Poetry by Annabel Mahoney: The Last Known Picked-Up Girl

Poetry by Annabel Mahoney: The Last Known Picked-Up Girl
| Opinion > Your Fiction

The Last Known Picked-Up Girl

my life was so small and petty it dropped
into a jar with barely a whisper;
a slip to say where i’d gone wrong
from the wound man doom-man
out in the world making hay
from girls like me

i’d ask him to tell me what it felt like
to live as long as he does;
have girls too, get married, go to school
he doesn’t know how many any more
i won’t ask him how many now

i would ask him to hold my mother

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