12-10-2024, 01:02 AM
REVISION #1
(All the titles in my head sound like y'all are gonna say "cliche")
Building Blocks
Mom worked the evening shift,
a nurse at the hospital.
Dad was traveling by ship,
a Navy Corpsman in Vietnam.
My sister and I fended
for ourselves after school.
Heating our dinners. Homework
was always done first – of course.
Dinner was packaged on foil trays,
and eaten in front of the television.
Wienies and beans. Salisbury steak.
Looney Tunes and Merry Melodies.
I escaped when I could, meeting
friends in the night. Smoking
and talking like the cool kids,
but we didn’t have a chance.
Long ago now; it’s been years
since I’ve spoken to anyone.
I’m good at not knowing
what I have – until I don’t.
-------------------------------------
Smoke
Mom worked at the hospital.
We were alone at night.
Dad was in the Navy,
traveling, killing people.
Dinner was packaged on foil trays.
Wienies and beans. Salisbury steak.
One night the cat's food
caught on fire in the oven.
The neighbor ran over to put it out.
She died soon after - lung cancer.
I took up smoking as a teen.
Stealing cigs from shops, hiding
them under a neighbor's porch.
We thought we were cool, but
time eroded that assumption.
We are the sum of our actions,
spread over time. The past is past,
disappearing like smoke rings into thin air.
Today was tomorrow yesterday.
Regrets are a waste of time,
wisps of smoke in the night.
(All the titles in my head sound like y'all are gonna say "cliche")
Building Blocks
Mom worked the evening shift,
a nurse at the hospital.
Dad was traveling by ship,
a Navy Corpsman in Vietnam.
My sister and I fended
for ourselves after school.
Heating our dinners. Homework
was always done first – of course.
Dinner was packaged on foil trays,
and eaten in front of the television.
Wienies and beans. Salisbury steak.
Looney Tunes and Merry Melodies.
I escaped when I could, meeting
friends in the night. Smoking
and talking like the cool kids,
but we didn’t have a chance.
Long ago now; it’s been years
since I’ve spoken to anyone.
I’m good at not knowing
what I have – until I don’t.
-------------------------------------
Smoke
Mom worked at the hospital.
We were alone at night.
Dad was in the Navy,
traveling, killing people.
Dinner was packaged on foil trays.
Wienies and beans. Salisbury steak.
One night the cat's food
caught on fire in the oven.
The neighbor ran over to put it out.
She died soon after - lung cancer.
I took up smoking as a teen.
Stealing cigs from shops, hiding
them under a neighbor's porch.
We thought we were cool, but
time eroded that assumption.
We are the sum of our actions,
spread over time. The past is past,
disappearing like smoke rings into thin air.
Today was tomorrow yesterday.
Regrets are a waste of time,
wisps of smoke in the night.