Any Mother

Any mother
let alone the mother of a true artist
suffers far more than they do
Believe me

Worry? You don't know from worry
will they eat right?
will they get fresh air enough?
Always trapped in some garret
Never leaving -just hunched over- creating
emoting
(smoking too. 
like it's attached to their mouth!)

You know Mrs. Rimbaud? Over in Brookline?
Her Artie, he went from writing lovely rhymes
elevated, like Parnassians
"Paroxysms of Ceasar"
then he gets into the liquor... phhfft
Out goes sonnets. No more romance.
Next it's all 
"The Seekers of Lice"
Who would read, I ask?

I should knock wood I didn't raise
an Abstract artist
although you know Mrs. Krassner always said
"Lenore knew what she was getting 
with that farmer's boy" 
and you want to be kind
(because of course
there but for the grace of God...)
But, you worry 
about the isolation
from the New York circle
All that messy Jungian self-exploration
And when the indoor plumbing needs to be paid for?
Who's calling Peggy Guggenheim first
I ask?

You know who is big headed? 
Brags like people don't know from Dylan?
Mrs. Zimmerman does.

But, yet and still
an artist's mother
always thinks her baby is best.