woman
in a white coat
sitting on the curb
weeping
someone
slumped over
in the passenger seat
of a gray truck
church on my left
green light
we are a living scream
arch
madness
coiled energy
sprung against every tenet
a plume of mayflies
lightning
then we are gone
the universe
does not blink
grieve
or tally
no flags are lowered
coiled energy
sprung against every tenet
a plume of mayflies
lightning
not a single
ounce of lag.
it hurt his feelings
my mother told me
in the third grade.
we'd filled out a family tree
for a class project
i didn't put anything on his side
not even his name.
i didn't really know those people
what was i supposed to do?
the wax
has dripped
to the next generation.
my son
calls my ex wife's parents
grandma and papa.
my parents
are grandma-dixie
and papa-joe
footnotes.
it's not his fault
i don't have a relationship with them
how is he supposed to?
my ex wife lets me sleep on his floor
couple nights a week
after my second shift job
at the halfway house.
in the morning
we have a little pillow chatter
and read a book
then i make him breakfast
and take him to school.
he knows my name.
and calls me dad.
Justin Hyde lives in Iowa where he works with criminals. He has a Web page at http://www.nyqpoets.net/poet/justinhyde. He can be contacted here: jjjjhyde@yahoo.com.
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