PENNYSYLVANIA 1948.

A WOMAN AND HER LYING HUSBAND IN PENNYSYLVANIA IN 1948.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Screw you, Johnny, you
Want to say, but don’t,
You look down at the

 

Cigarette burning
Away, holding the
Telephone to your

 

Ear, listening to
His latest excuse
For not showing. Blah

 

Blah blah. You’ve heard it
All before. Nothing
New. He can’t even

 

Come up with something
Fresh to say; he’s no
Imagination

 

That’s his trouble; same
Old lies. His mother
Said he’d amount to

 

Nothing, just like his
Old man. Her words not
Yours. She rather liked

 

You. Never said so
In as many words
But you could tell by

 

The look in her eyes
And the way she smiled.
Work at the office,

 

Something important’s
Come in; have to get
It all down and off

 

Before dawn. You sit
And inhale from the
Cigarette, take a

 

Lungful, remember
Your father catching
You with your first smoke,

 

The cigarette you
Bummed from Joey Spruce,
And your father slapped

 

You around for that.
Funny thing was he
Used to smoked like Hell

 

Was going to freeze.
You exhale; the smoke
Reaches upward, you

 

Grab at it with one hand
Your fingers falling
Through the light greyness.

 

Screw you, Johnny, you
Mime, moving your lips
Like an old actress

 

Learning her dull lines
For the umpteen time. 

Author's Note

Painting by Jack Vettriano.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the photo and the story. Those hard and good conversations are always a pleasure to read about. I like the story. Remind of a Mae West movie. There was a woman. A outstanding poem.
Coyote