December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

AT MY FATHERS HOUSE by Nancy Travis

In the kitchen as the toast browns
I put on my 3rd grade cateye glasses
pearly blue with rhinestone tips
I found with the baby books.

Music’s echoing into the room
from the radio my brother hooked up
in the bathroom upstairs.
I prance to the refrigerator,
doing tina turner
making my dress into a mini skirt
to get some juice.

Then my father comes in
& shakes his head
saying
four years’ money for college
gone straight
down the drain…

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

Whose children are these? Who do these children belong to? With no power to look over, He look at them sleeping, Exhaustion overwhelming hunger, barely Protect with burlap from the cold Cabin.... WHOSE CHILDREN ARE THESE? by Gearld Barrax.
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