Summer Days
Mom used to spend a lot of the day on the phone
while dad was at work.
She would hold two fingers to
her lips and mimic smoking a cigarette.
That was our cue
to get in line,
and run through the home
looking for her pack.
While she was inside,
my sister and I would sometimes go swing,
or ride big-wheels on the porch,
listening to some really bad songs.
Mom usually kept the radio tuned to the local country station.
A poor family,
with a radio-intercom
and speaker in the wall of the porch.
At age five I stood in the living room.
having a bad day,
and threw the bible to the floor.
My aunt told me I shouldn't do that.
But I knew something wasn't right about that book.
At age 18, I found god,
and he told me that he loved me.
He was the only one besides my
girlfriend
that spilled their heart.
Later I realized that Jesus could not write the alphabet,
and the reason god only freed
was to enslave.
One afternoon mom slapped
the face of our cousin
because she attempted to kidnap my sister.
At least that was mom's story.
My cousin told her mother,
and our aunt showed up at the door
saying she wanted us to return her husband's gun.
But we knew she was going to whip mom, and mom knew it too.
Mom told us not to unlock the door.
Our aunt pleaded with us to open the door
saying she just wanted the gun.
I don't remember if there was 911 back then,
but no one made any calls.
Curious about the fascination
of frogs,
I had the opportunity to see a live
museum exhibit
when I was high.
The colors ran through them
as they sat on the twigs.
Years later
I saw them
on a shower curtain
standing with their hands on their waist,
and some leaping one another.
In the low
dark Minnesota swamps
they bellow in a hurry,
and loud as a whistle on each ear,
and the deer crossed the road in front of our cars,
and the ski-jump looked like the Seattle needle,
waiting for its winter gown.
Mama
wanted cigarettes
and tea,
dishes washed,
and her Pekingese taken out for a shit.
She never took well to criticism,
and I had finger prints
on my face to prove it.
She used to threaten to pack our
clothes and put them on the porch.
I would have been warm,
for she put us is in long sleeve shirts
during the hot Carolina Julys.
We used to sweat on our neighbor's crabapple tree,
and they knew mama
was crazy.
Her dog once ate its on shit,
to avoid being beaten.
The dog and all of us were alike,
always eating it for mama.
Jim CrestonPosted on 02-24-13
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