poem of the day 07.12.16

the night my old man

talked to the television

i don’t remember

if my mother was out with her girlfriends

or if it was just one of those summer nights

after my old man worked the day shift

and my mother was off pulling overnights

so that someone was home with my brother and i

back during those counting the change

for a loaf of bread days

i don’t even remember the name of the movie or show

that was on the tv

just me and my brother sitting in the living room

having a coca-cola burping contest

with the old man asleep on his side on the couch

the ashtray full of kool milds resting on the carpet

that we kept daring each other to take and smoke

whatever was on the screen was loud

loud enough to block his snoring

and the people in the movie or show were fighting

some man and a woman

domestic drama crap that we’d quickly tired of

and the woman was flailing and yelling up a storm

while the guy stood there defiant and dull

like all men and women on television

when she finally stopped and screamed, i’m leaving

to which my old man responded from his slumber

fine, then get the hell out

as if my mother herself had come

tearing into the living room from the kitchen

ready to go another round with him

over their own domestic shit

before turning on his other side

the old man’s back to the television

snoring anew