Bill Alton

Poetry


When I Should’ve Been Sleeping

She’s naked and holds out her hand. My dad’s in his chair.

He pushes her. She falls, legs wide, pubic hair dark and heavy. Her breasts hang from her ribs, nipples like chocolate.

She smashes his face. He takes the coffee table to her, brings it down on her shoulders. Again and there’s blood. Again and the table goes to shards and slivers.

She doesn’t move.

Oh God, he says. I’m sorry.

She lays her hand on his face like it’s all okay.

I can barely hear her crying.

Published by Bill, on August 29th, 2009 at 12:34 pm. Filled under: Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , No Comments

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