What's the idea of this poem? My mother hangs up the phone
scrapes loose the tears
prepares to tell me
who is dying this time

I speak no Spanish
My mother is the translator
of the dying
My family is always the dying
I say family despite the fact
I have attended none of their funerals

My abuelita was a ricocheting ghost
She died once and I forgot
an entire language

Okay I didn’t forget
it just became inconvenient to remember
Who wants a language for the living anyway?

An inventory of my tongue
yields nothing
that looks like my mother
The resemblance stops at the mouth

She is fluent in a language
I am only ever ugly in
She falls asleep in front of the TV
her show muted
I wonder if in her dreams
I can speak

SRRy not sure mate

H

Explanation: I D K

answer: i chose a.

explanation:

now, of course, the quality and the seasonability of these winter dreams varied, but the stuff of them remained.   they persuaded dexter several years later to pass up a business course at the state university—his father, prospering now, would have paid his way—for the precarious advantage of attending an older and more famous university in the east, where he was bothered by his scanty funds. but do not get the impression, because his winter dreams happened to be concerned at first with musings on the rich, that there was anything merely snobbish in the boy. he wanted not association with glittering things and glittering people—he wanted the glittering things themselves. often he reached out for the best without knowing why he wanted it—and sometimes he ran up against the mysterious denials and prohibitions in which life indulges.

there you go thats what we are missing