Roadkill

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She complains about her kids
with a look in her eye that tells you
she will demolish you if you so much as agree.
There has never been confusion about her priorities
yet,
the dark mound on the side of the road
more like a sleeping animal
than a violent mass of roadkill
with its bones and intestines protruding.
She was jealous of that sleeping mound
on today’s drive home, fantasizing about
laying down on a speeding thoroughfare, just
so she could
rest.
Already feeling like roadkill
so what’s the difference
after a long week of answering
questions.
20 students every hour for 6 hours,
only three questions each, is 360 questions
a day, laughably conservative.
1,800 questions by Friday afternoon.
Roadkill is a kind word.
She comes home and they are on her immediately.
Question 1,801 to question 1,866 in thirty minutes
She begs
for a moment of silence
she says, stop! say nothing! let me put my things down!
and she sits for
a moment
before going to get them a snack, kiss their foreheads
squeeze them tight. She tells them
to pick up their trash.
She is answering questions and rinsing dishes
while texting her sister
and wondering when she will get
the new perennials in the ground.