（"Maman" by Louise Bourgeois, Web picture)
In memory of Louise Bourgeois （1911-2010)
by Chinghuey Tiao
The self-portrait parley-voos to me, Louise,
That hubbub of your quiet memories.
Conceiving, nurturing and feeding a never-ending eerie,
A spider had been spinning a tapestry sticky.
Crawling was the hairy species along the tabernacle,
Injecting the milky white venom to the article.
The fetus inside imbibed the animosity,
L’enfant outside sucked the anxiety.
Maman was a half-breed bug hackle,
With four limbs to stand over the heartsick coal.
Papa was a descent of a parlous bee,
With a pernicious prick to deflower all lively.
Bug and bee were hurting each other in an anabolic way,
Maman shut her compound eyes as a blind estray.
The web she weaved teemed with traps
Where greasy yarns hauled the tad in the place.
Growing up with the inner call awakened,
You cultivated a power naturally learned.
You equilibrated your mind by making art,
Estranging yourself from the painful past.
"I transformed hate into love" you proclaimed,
"It’s all about self-esteem" you confessed,
While the nine-foot metal spider was lurking near
Until the four-pair rugged legs hovering above here.
"I gained confidence by destroying the past",
Your rapt voice is echoing and disquieting the rite,
Lying underneath the giant haunted Maman
Is a ninety-eight-year-old young woman.
The fate of hers sealed when she was in the womb.
Now you close your eyes with weariness in the tomb.
A futile try to sever yourself from the creepy creature,
A spider, you truly hated and despised with fear.