Two Bumpy Mother-Sonnets, Mother-Sonnets 4 & 5

Napowrimo's challenge today: the golden shovel. Taking a poem, write your own, using each word of the original poem to end each line of yours. In other words, read down the last word of each line below to read the original poem (This Is Just to Say, William Carlos Williams's perfect little poem).  Two Bumpy Sonnets Mother-Sonnets #s 4 & 5 My Mother of Snuggles Always the plump ones, the chubby duet, you and I Food issues everywhere: why can't we have what they have? Sugar cubes, pineapple hearts, eagle eye on what's eaten Dreaming of lightness and flatness - the miracle - the But - the hunger - the wanting - the craving - not plums Not the sweet multicolors of fruit in a bowl - no, not that Not something you even could name, but there we were In a wide-open heaven of tastes, two fatties locked in. Where did it start for you, my mama? the Stylish, resentful mother you had? the icebox Of East Coast chic and taste who admonished and Watched you? And does it still matter, after all, which Childhood pattern, which lifetime of hurt, made you My cuddlesome, bounceable mama, who you were? Maybe It's Simpler Let's think this through again together. Probably If you had a meanie to mother you and my saving Grace was that I had you for a mother, for A pillow/pillar, a laugh/snuggle playmate, a breakfast Songstress for always, then maybe it isn't - forgive Me - at all about childhood or hurt. Forgive me But maybe it isn't about something missing. They come at us with theories but maybe we just were Chubby. Maybe life was full of delicious Things that we wanted. You wanted. I wanted, and so We said yes. But then rules. But then hankering! Sweet Things everywhere. Wanting the yummies and Wanting flat tummies and not getting either, so Torn and confused. No wonder we run hot and cold.