being frank – February 1

2.1.2014

pinched face, tight lips

hands pressed hard

at the sides

 

it must have been hard

to be Frank, when your

sons

 

don’t respect you, even

hate you and call you

down

 

while you struggle to

put the food on the

table

 

and your wife is dying

from the cancer in

front of you

 

and your hand can’t

hold from the bottle

before

 

you put more into

the glass and again

again

 

life wandering away

right in front of

you

 

on the long drives to

do business while

thirst

 

rips at you and you

cry into the windshield.

——————

 

 

Advertisements
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s