Inside the Rage
By Richard L. Provencher
- 1553 reads
I heard the liquor on his breath
him stumbling into the door
key scratching the wood
cursing painting the doorway
opening and falling down
must be three times before he makes
it to our rooms us kids cowering
dad’s home again
tip-toes reaching for our hi dad
but pretend we’re asleep
who wants to be happy when
he is on the loose
back from another taverne fling
pay-cheque probably
sucked up and the food
bin empty in our apt at the same time
we know screaming will start
and begins with thump-a- thump
down the hall mom coming like a run-
away train knowing they won’t hit
with fists or boots or sticks
just two tongues and so afraid
no one will be up to make us kids
breakfast in the morning.
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Comments
Gutting and raw. Richard,
Gutting and raw. Richard, what a frankly conveyed norm of emotional abuse and neglect.
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Sadly a story that takes
Sadly a story that takes place all over... good write!
Mark Heathcote
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Congrats on the cherries,
Congrats on the cherries, Richard. I liked the rhythm to this one as it fits so readily with the moment. The content was disturbing of course but you conveyed the feelings exellently. I felt like I was one of the children cowering in the dark. Adam
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