Raised by Robots with a Scarcity Complex

We
cannot
know
as we
name
our
firstborn
something that begins with “A”
how
often
we
will
butt-dial her
—once even on her birthday—
and how
it will
underscore
just how
infrequently
we will talk
with her, listen
and how inadequate we will be
[after six other siblings are pushed or lifted into the world]
at maintaining a relationship with her as an adult child living on the other side of Lake Michigan.

Anne Marie Holwerda Warner is a Chicago carpenter's daughter perched in Kalamazoo, Michigan. In 2019 her poems were published in Gravel and The Bitchin' Kitsch and is forthcoming in Moonchild Magazine.