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Harriet Harris née Kuritsky...

Despite being a nineteen year old bride
she wed Boyce Brandon Harris
half a decade her senior,
(where I ranked less than a twinkle in their eyes)
during the month of June 1955, 
not quite half a century later ~ May 4th, 2005
death severed the pledge she did troth 
linkedin wifely role, 
cuz against her will she died
at most four weeks to be more exact
golden wedding anniversary never witnessed
raging against accursed grim reaper
countenance succumbed into collective sorrow 

life force forever absent snatched away,
yet magically transformed 
into the breathing edenic idyll 
courtesy green thumb of eldest sister of mine
once livingsocial mother of ours 
invoking trademark contagious l'chaim 
flickering aura, charisma, instant karma
persona could not hide mommy dearest
physically eclipsed after
rigor mortis displayed deathly pallor
bonafide grateful dead 
signed, sealed and delivered
human cargo into crematorium.

Born November 13th,1935,
the presence of long since deceased mother
her absence acutely recounted on said date, 
no matter familial relationship between us, 
who begat yours truly (me) 
fraught with antipathy,
especially when writer of these words
felt he long overstayed his welcome
as I racked up living with parents
while being a long haired 
pencil neck baby boomer geek 
experiencing dating women for the first time 
courtesy thursday night contra dance.

Books ravenously digested 
and female protagonists he brood
as an illusory substitute for this dude
whose retreat into his bedroom 
kindled like tinder unidirectional family feud
and donned Samson guise as a protective hood, 
whereby Beatle browed, 
foo fighting literate philosophical thinker 
envied groovy hippies of the late nineteen sixties
riffing lyrics of fab four 
fabled melody of Hey Jude,
where testosterone laden fantasies 
triggered whet dreams housed lewd
seminal urges pestering spouse, 
who offtimes rarely in the mood
for a quickie with the dickie.

Mein kampf as a thirty plus year old groom
test teasing prophylactics embarrassing
purchase never made at local drugstore
unsurprisingly, obviously, invariably...
birth control taboo subject, best to ignore
subsequently intercourse awkwardly coordinated,
consummated, completed extempore
synonymous with phallic fulfillment 
gonadal hormonal secretion 
on par with the mythic sheet with a hole 
through which prude and archaic  
as modus operandi methodology
maternal grandparents supposedly copulated,
hence bun in the oven between self 
and future missus Matthew Harris
wrought premarital sex bon jure.

I trot out essential tidbits of poem 
acknowledging birthday of dear ole mom, 
who succumbed to deadly terminal illness, 
she lost lease on life, and met her demise 
sooner than indomitable will clamored to live 
approximately nineteen and a half years ago 
from May 2024, who frequently asked me,
but never received acknowledgement
during her livingsocial years did abjure
(as the sole son) 
communicating HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

Impossible aery mission 
to pinpoint when advent of zygote
triggering miraculous bitta bing bitta bang, 
whence deoxyribonucleic acid wrote
legacy of mortal maternal demise
only a hunch backed up 
that mystery to unleash 
feral fiendish fornication once smote 
yielded unicellular spore
while in utero ~ early/mid

February I ain't exactly sure
nineteen hundred thirty five - dirt poor
Harriet Harris, fourth, last born
(interesting enough shared same birthdate
with eldest sister twelve years her senior)
fetched vicinity Coney Island offshore
by stork, became favorite progeny begat
courtesy Morris, and then swore
celibacy forever more
Rebeckah Kuritsky heretofore

harbored inchoate genetic fore
boded, encoded, inscribed
deadly mutations housed,
fetched, dispatched and bore
flawed BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes sketched
affecting circumscribing her allotted mortality
orbitz equaling about six months shy
of three and a half score
unknowingly, unsuspectingly, unwittingly,
her biologic fatal demise indelibly etched.

Breast cancer first brush
sounded death knell
Harriet clocked approximately 
six months shy of being a septuagenarian
orbitz around the sun,
she underwent grueling radiation
plus chemotherapy
carcinoma eradicated allowed,
enabled, provided breathing spell
reprieve accentuated, galvanized, punctuated...

newfound zealous zest almost
nothing could quell
significance pray tell
new lease on life to sell
lib berate cherish, relish, whish
each precious moment
thwarting pell mell
adversity with bon vivant elan
and gusto to issue rebel yell

kickstarting, making breast
livingsocial aye bell,
especially after despite... er... well
her double mastectomy,
she looked fabulously swell
courtesy silicon implants
slight downside reconstituted
racked busty bosom
susceptible to ooze gel.

Many years post remission telltale
diagnosis, viz ovarian,
despite requisite hysterectomy
emotionally did impale,
she instinctually, intuitively,
invariably, yet quiver and quail
against impending demise 24/7 did assail
guardian angel(s) of no avail,
nor did yours truly proffer nurturance
resentment smoldering within this male
red hot poker anger lambasting me

peppered with ultimatums to vamoose,
never got resolved ensuing estrangement
deterred reaching out to embrace,
hearing raspy fading breaths exhale,
miserably tethered with tubes
when she did severely pine ail
and grievously bewail
corporeal essence ashen pale
awkwardly, helplessly, stupidly... I stood
formidable grim reaper foe whisked mother
to Elysian fielded dale.
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