Joe Riley

Joe Riley, he got flustered.
Could not remember much.
Put a cup along his head.
Poured the last sip out.
A drink nobody wants.
Last wishes, terror, prayer,
anger bright as stoplights.
His mother came to him,
which made him jump, until
he saw that she was sober,
maybe softened up in death.
She smiled like an alien,
as if happy to see Joe
grown so old. So old.
Parents sew your failures
to the back of your best coat
so they follow you forever,
right behind your shadow.
His mother always seized him
in full puffery, to deny strongly
all she said was wrong with him.
She came to see him die, 
and hear that she was right.
Maybe it might have worked
a long time ago, before the sky
enchanted him one awful night.
All the space. All the time.
He was barely there, compared
to all that fell into his eyes.
But, he declared it his. Joe's.
Same on summer days. Blue
rained wet down into him.
All the pickled noise now gone,
he could stare right up at him,
"My turn to be just sky."