About the AuthorBookshelfWhat's NewReviews

It's Mother's Day

O Yeah!

It wasn't so unusual his drinking
most of the afternoon,
so when Ma would send me,
I'd go to the bar & take him out the back.
It was always nip & tuck
getting home.

When he'd wake he'd try to thank me & barf all over the sofa.

Out of work for years & broke,
he'd booze on credit, do odd jobs for the bill.
Sometime he'd take me along,
the cab of the truck smelling of piss & gasoline &
I'd hang out the window for a whiff of fresh air.

After I turned 13,
he taught me how to hold a cue / how to make a perfect bridge with
          my hand
even more stable
if I'd let my nails grow.

He showed me how to grip its knob with just the tips
of my fingers
how to make long, slow, decisive strokes /
how to hit the balls
dead on.

We'd drive around, from bar to bar, making matches...

o y eah, we'd say
coming away with cash
he'd count in his lap if he weren't too drunk

On other days,
he'd take me to other bars where I'd sit on his knee & pretend to be
          someone else's little girl

& if a man would buy him a drink
I'd let him touch my breasts
& If he'd give him twenty bucks
I'd go out to the truck
take down my pants
help.

O yeah! they'd say
going up inside me

O Yeah! O Yeah! they'd say
their bodies quaking

O Yeah!  O Yeah!  O Yeah!

 

Overview
Barcelona Diary
It's Mother's Day
By Dawn's Early Light at 120 Miles Per Hour
Stiletto
The Man With His Back To The Room
Intimacies, Prose. Poems and Stories
Homage to a Widow
It's Only TV
Improvisations - Chapbook
After Goya
Escapades
Improvisations - From Contemporary Music