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Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

come winter

woke up this morning
full of
would-have-been-words
and the calm which descends
upon a woman in her mid 30’s
who fucking knows
exactly what life
isn’t planning on giving her
and what it almost did

my six year old frame
was just one of dad’s bottles of canadian mist
and a few tiny white pills away
from being raised
in abject poverty
in a town so poor
even the mayor is on food stamps
no escape no escape

thank you for having the good sense to die, daddy
so mama could drag me to the safety
and fluoride filled waters of the north

because i’m 400 years removed
from indian princess
but only one generation away
from the whitest trash on earth

you spared me the fire
the dropping out of high school
the five snotty lice ridden children
and worrying
about sealing the broken trailer windows
in plastic sheets
and kerosene heaters burning
the half retarded baby
come winter

you spared me from a walmart complexion
mcdonald’s thighs
and the crack toothed meth head
transient sometimes truck driving husband
who beats me regularly

now here i sit
too educated for my own good
i’m damn near intolerable
and my most cumbersome problem
is that the dog keeps dragging
my expensive plum robe from nordstrom’s
to the couch to sleep on it

i’m mixing irish cream into my coffee
fully aware of what class i’m boxing in
grateful for the blood
on my teeth and tongue

i could have been helpless
but instead i’m merely wasted

and enjoying the life
of a bourgeois drunk

jesus turned water into wine
before he got put up for the night

but you, father, in death
turned regret into gratitude

that’s a god damned christmas miracle
if ever there was one

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