Sunday, September 17, 2006

#147: September 17, 2006

To show his love, our father dug a pit
as deep as he could reasonably dig
and broad as our tiny backyard would fit
(no swimming pool nor basement was so big);

He filled it to its rim with broken glass
and rotting boards with nails jutting like teeth
rusty with plaque; scraps of polished snipped brass
concealed serrated tin-can lids beneath;

And finally when he had it all complete
he took us out and led us to the lip
of that torturous maw, whereat our feet
cramped, shaking, fearful of the smallest slip:

"I love you," Dad whispered, hands on our heads.
"Don't make me toss your asses in," he said.

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