Daddy's home
Here come his footsteps, erratic and heavy
There go his shoulders, bumping and thumping
A bowling ball sliding, one side to another
Not quite careering; quietly keeling.
I hold my breath tightly right inside my chest
Pull close my blanket, build up the bunker
To keep us safe as I can from his rage
Not quite unravelling; quietly reeling.
He throws the door open. The yellow-bright light
squares off his shadow. He sways in its glare
A squat boxer poised - fists at the ready
Not quite unleashing; quietly threatening.
In bed beside me, she quivers a little
Her four year old muscles not strong enough yet
Her warm pee spills out, pools through the cold sheets
Not quite revealing; quietly wettening.
Slurring, he grumbles and grunts a slow sneer
Falls forward, fumbles; his stink fills the air
His hands hit the floor, instead of our bed
Not quite collapsing; quietly kneeling.
Stooped, he turns and trundles out of the room
Yanks the door shut and the darkness returns
Safe once again, she nuzzles into my neck
Not quite relaxing; quietly reeling.
(2013)
