Underneath the folding of your daddy’s wing
Seldom every seen or heard
It’s there you disappeared in those missing years
Never to have said a word
Like Saint Anthony or Ellen James
Tell us what has got your tongue.
Angela, why do you keep on holding on.

Like a rattlesnake coiled around an easter egg
Snoozing in the springtime heat.
The frost on your cold shoulder drives the birds down south
In the shadow of your daddy’s reach.
You cut out your tongue
Underneath, we found a medicine chest of every pill you never swallowed down.

Angela, why do you keep on holding on.

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