Disparaging –

It was 1955, a disparaging mouth gave up loud shouts on six siblings, two parents, and a one-eyed grandmother
He came back out of pity, arrived and contracted the pale illness of inevitability
They stood still, watched his walk-back, looked down at a brother’s cobbled pockets, knew the format of loose coinT
They had scratching body dirt, it had thickened, formed crust, carbolic soap hadn’t filled any hand while he’d tried not to die
That past life, the dark bedroom for three, there, wardrobe doors openly emitted eye-level maker’s label, the soon-to-be wedding suit had turned into drink, had befriended a pawn shop
Gritted teeth and genetic failures, and a marriage at a side-altar, the heresy account, fiance’s theological training sparse, unaware of clever little protestant team-sheet – Calvin, Luther, Knox, Zwingli, – still looked beautiful, still, ‘still a big altar’.
But, for Best Man finding out ancestors died in an insane asylum, inevitably, no other news arrived post-nuptial

Advertisements
This entry was posted in poem, poetry, prose, poet, creative writing, writing 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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

w

Connecting to %s