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Poetry By: dadio


Submitted:Aug 27, 2010    Reads: 44    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   

Just because Mother told
Father he looked like some
New York tourist, with his

Loud shirt and hanging camera,
He hit her once or twice, you
Couldn't tell, just remember

The yell, the cry and flurry of
Fists. Mother looked a wreck
After that, her eyes gazed out

On a different world like some
Columbus on dangerous seas.
You fuck with me woman,

You're going to regret it,
Father said, his bass voice
Flowing around the room like

A large bell, his knuckles
Speckled in bright blood.
Mother's spirit was black

And blue, but he never once
Touched you, not even a raised
Hand; just his words and stare

Kept you out of there. You can
See her now, cowering when he
Came in, standing stooped over

The sink and saying softly, Mary
Lou, don't say nothing when
Your daddy comes in just let him

Settle in to his chair just let him
Be calm and unwind, don't bring
Him troubles or worries, just let

Him be there. You watched as she
Shook when his key hit the lock,
The young woman she'd been aged

With each hard look and knock.
You sit now and see her in the
Crazy house, wandering the ward,

Gibbering to the walls. You can
Still recall your father sitting in
His chair, his eyes in some lifeless

Stare, with the carving knife Mother
Had thrust into him, well rooted
There and in the background on

The radio some Country and Western
Singer was singing deep and slow.


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