Wednesday, September 17, 2014

fear tanka sequence

fear


as punishment
he locked me in the closet
little did he know
I was more afraid of the shadow
behind the door

to keep from peeing
a treasure hunt inside his shoes
a roman coliseum
and a few garments
that smelled like his gurry

there was no such thing
as terror,
a stutter, tobacco,
my mother’s empty 
embrace 





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