Waiting out a storm or two
in your mother's cousin's living room
while Cheryl feeds the dogs,
and your sister in her summer clothes
ties bows upon her dolls.
And you knew that you were the man now.
Because your father sold history books stateside
door-to-door with elaborate hooks to red-blood
And now you have a half brother born in Texas.
"Curse of the traveling salesman," your dad said.
So Cheryl left for the afternoon
and your mom swam laps in the swimming pool
red-eyed, like she was having a good time.
And you couldn't tell if she was laughing or crying.
If it even mattered. What mattered anymore?
all rights reserved