Tuesday, July 12, 2016

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


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