Long Gone

Shattered glass on the floor

Blood like steaks of liquor run the wall

Your screaming and outbursts haunt me

Even long after you have left

© Dicky J Loweman 2014


No Place For Him

Ma’am, keep your kid on its leash

This is a supermarket

Not a rodeo

Running, running, running

Running up and down the aisles

Screaming like a gaggle of banshees

Circling the new settler’s wagons

The little denizen knocked cans off the shelf

Rearranged the sugars – fitting

And destroyed a perfectly innocent issue of Woman’s World magazine

All while you studied the contents

On a sugared cereal

Are you kidding me?

Your kid needs that like I need a spare asshole

Come on lady

Grab this little whirlwind and chain him in the yard

Like libraries, bars and funeral homes –

This ain’t no place for him

© Dicky J Loweman 2014