poetry Short Stories Uncategorized

red cross

i remember my father
alcoholic bellied
eating crackers stirred into milk
or peanut butter folded into syrup
so there would be enough food
for the children

how he did everything
exactly what he should have done
to take care of us


he suffered an earthquake of the mind
then died

leaving me forever writing personal ads

single white non smoking female seeks highly damaged male smoker to save
from oblivion

and i think of you on that rose stucco floor
vodka content

when you should be building
jazz cathedrals along the nile

6 replies on “red cross”

I always read your poetry in leisure and haste at the same time – in leisure as how could one not, and in haste as your last lines are always so….oh everything!

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