.:father, mama, anger and me:.

 
father,
oh father
we’re all now past -tense
and in this way it all makes sense

nothing now but smallish memories
lit like little candles
the burn having the taste & smell of
peppercorn on
bloody teeth & tongue

the last (w)rung

yes, for me, for you
mama, she went & cried
cried most of it out while
still holding onto
her anger  

to mama, anger was no longer a stranger, so
she let it linger

father,
oh father

way before your departure
mama & her anger
they went traveling; went
off; far enough for
unraveling

this time
on their way out  
they brushed against my door
didn’t even creak the floor
peeped in giving a grin
teasing me
all the while wishing
me well

but this time,
anger, pistol in hand; oh hell:

the sheets of my faded bedspread
half hiding my head, but
my ears heard just the same

heard when the
quiet came

father,
oh father

mama said
anger whispered your name
muffled, then muzzled it into the pillow case
the one that wasn’t tear stained by way of your girlfriend’s lace
the one claiming secrets not
altogether hidden

father,
oh father...all’s been forgiven
except the grudge held by me & heaven
that and the
burnt taste & smell of
lit candle and peppercorn

the kind that
reaps the attention of
a woman scorned

mama
still cries; yet
she says “not all the time”

and as for
what’s behind?
she says, anger’s gone and

she don’t
mind.