The Call

"knock off artist?"

don't get caught faking
when the surrounding ground
in surround sound
groans...
vibrates in low decibal tones
to unearthly moans

you got the goods
you sell em’ cheap
silver jingles in your pocket
dead Benjamin’s in your fist

Ill-gotten
Spends the same
bloody palms
faces with no names

adorn your home
adorn your spouse
adorn your child
adorn yourself
enmeshed in false wealth

buying rounds for everyone
“He’s a jolly ol’ fellow”
talk of the town
here’s to your health!

you left the children to fend for themselves
approval of the world
while they rummaged through cupboards
full of empty shelves

They didn’t find food
But they did find your stash
Porn magazines, drugs, money, booze

a stomach churns
hidden in a basement eyes adjust to the dark
no doors down here
in their hands now
Perhaps this is happiness
the adult way out

drunken boisterous voices burst in through the front door
don’t even look for us
don’t call out to us
don’t even know where we are

pass out somewhere between the front door left opened
and the bedroom down the hall
it's a wonder
they got back here at all

put the stash back where you found it
put a warm blanket over them

by candlelight it begins…

a new birth…

“Dear Mommy and Daddy…”

don’t even know…

you’ve begun

To answer a silent call

writing your way out

step into...


a lifelong journey home