by Darna Bazzica
She had an issue with the tissue She did not like the wet snot That stroked her hand As she rummaged through for money But she thinks It’s by chance But I did lay them ‘pre-SLY sly’ In my booby trap of my handbag She was so wrong My genius plan Only uncoiled now as I tell my truth Of snot in hand Yet my son is still to learn …one day, I will tell him too When he’s a man
Poet biography:
Darna Bazzica is forty-two years of age and a single mother of two. In her past she suffered from PTSD, depression, and is a survivor of domestic violence and drug addiction. Through Tai Chi, the study of Psychotherapy and mindful living she now lives in clarity and peace. As a member of CHO (Community Health Onkaparinga), she proudly helps facilitate healing through The BIG backyard community garden and also shows students from high school our community services.
Darna’s mantra is ‘Remember to never give up, we are all capable of change and we can do anything’.