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Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Poetry Party Wednesday

It's hard, when our heroes fall from the skies and turn into mere mortals, full of flaws.


I miss my brother, sure.

He drank Robitussin washed down with beer.
Sure, he smoked dope; shot heroin; went to prison
for selling to an undercover cop.
Sure
he robbed the town’s only hot dog stand, Gino’s,
like I overheard while I laid on my bed
staring up at the stars under slanted curtains.
Sure he used to leave his two-year-old son alone
so he could score on the street.

But before all this,
my brother sure used to swing me up
onto his back, run me around dizzy through hallways and rooms;
we’d laugh & laugh; fall onto the bed finally
and he’d tickle me to death,
sure.


Arlene Tribbia

3 comments:

Holli said...

It is sad.... I liked this one Teri.

Jeanne @ Collage of Life said...

Very touching Teri...makes you stop and think. Just the way I like them. Best wishes for a lovely weekend. Thinking of you... xx

thepinkrachael said...

This is one of my favourite ones you've posted so far. I really enjoy your poetry wednesdays - it was a fab idea!