TSM 243 — Daddy Needs a Drink

Photo by Kyle Thompson Maybe it’s being locked in the closet. Maybe it’s the surprise knuckles to the middle of my back. Maybe it’s seeing my breath on the air as I curl under the thin blanket. Maybe it’s his forcing himself into me. The day of my liberation it is mid-January. Daddy is drunk,…

#FF — I Remember Part 3

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Manny, our neighbor, pounded on our door. “What’s going on in there. Loretta has called the police.” Manny and Loretta had tolerated Mama’s wails during Daddy’s “corrections,” but now that a baby was involved… “You’re going to pay for this,” Daddy said, and squeezed Mama’s arm, hard. Soon, Officer Jones…

dVerse — Poetics — The Death of Dolores Haze

That summer when sweet dew was on the rose she danced and played along the merry lane while mother hummed a tune and hung the clothes. Yet ill winds soon would spin the weather vane. A stranger from Bigtown, in fancy clothes, arrived and said he’d traveled on the train. Slack-jawed and bug-eyed, looked just…

dVerse — OLN #305 Live! and earthweal OLW #96 — Dispelled

Padding along cushioned unfamiliarwhere fungi creeps unmolested alongfallen limbs from long-distant lake gusts My blue gps dot with flashlight incrementsthe pixel-dashed trail scalloping theinland lake to the marked ruin of tribes and boys. Carved cold granite icon topatriarchal rights of domains and souls.Resting on the crumbling concrete baseof a dining hall that fed the damned…

dVerse — Prosery — Bad Girls

I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night–from “When We Sing of Might,” by Kimberly Blaeser I pick one up at the runaway shelter. Another from her granny’s house. One from court-approved fictive kin’s house. The one picked up from the detention center is pale, with dark circles under her eyes. Wednesday is…

dVerse — Protest — pearl dust

Fine precious pearl, a gift divineyou’ve crushed like dirt beneath your boot;Stole innocence, oft’ hidden crime on precious pearl, a gift divine. You’re fouler than leaked toxic slime,forgot, remembered in the booksby precious pearl, a gift divine,now dust like dirt ‘neath heaven’s boot. Then comes a whirling in the airthat gathers sparkles from the dirt.Sweet…