CHRISTOPHER BARNES

Hung Up

A quick-frozen day,
neon through the skylight,
peroxide green.
A Swiftair letter from London.
Everyone's pink.
Betty's wage-slavin'
an hour-count to wipe out
so Gerad spits the coffee grits
and the ring tones rev at the Samaritans...
 
Ruth met death
this Passover
the itty-bitty Susan grasped
that her mom was lame
we do not even get her to bawl about it
she makes rubble bounce around her dad
they toyed with food here at supper
he's swimming two jobs too
 
and after that another call, then another.
Do I have the right to smile?