“Canvas coal trousers and a bourbon”

Day 5
Yes, this is a marathon and I’m already feeling the stress of writing a poem a day. For some, they just spew them off like rockets but for me it’s a long process of feeling. Today we had to reach back into history–something before our time and since I’m sorting through geneology stuff on my living room floor, this was fresh on my mind.
So, before my time there was . . .

“Canvas coal trousers and a bourbon”

Holy Petersen what did you think
with two dead babies upon your
coal thick trousers, soot apron
around your neck, two babies
a sick one a drown one and
your washerwoman wife
scrubbing you out
have you no pride
or nothing left to
give to little Alice
who waited for a smile
who lived poor and low
watching those two glass
bottles
rocking two blue
babies between ‘em
on your coal cold
lap while you
awaited death
without
thought
of her.

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Speak to me of thoughts unspoken.

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