she threatened to sell us to the hot dog man
I had my chance mom whispered
the hot dog man takes anything
he'd cart you off no questions asked

in summer my mother
having had it up to here
again with us three boys
would run away from home

we wouldn't notice for an hour or so
until we got hungry or thought oh no
this time she might be gone for good

she'd walk around the block a time or two
we saw her sitting on the corner curb
her legs stretched out across the sewer grate
holding her face in both her hands to cry

it was embarrassing
to have the neighbors see her sadding there

I was the one elected to collect her
say we're sorry ask forgiveness
tell her whatever it took
whatever we did we wouldn't do again
promise

I'd take her hand and bring her home
one of us would hug her
one would clean his room
I'd do the dishes

for the rest of the day
we put away our wooden swords
our wounding words
we gave her peace
we gave her quiet
and when tomorrow came
and we resumed the awful evil that boys do
I'd look around from time to time
to make sure she remained

we boys are grown
our mother's gone for good
yet no one knows what really goes
inside those hot dogs

so I look out for the man
who asks no questions
I listen for that jangle of his cart

From Breather (Fireweed Press, 2009).
Used here with the author's permission.