top of page

As published in The Honest Ulsterman, June 2017

and Altadena Poetry Review 2019

13

​

he grips the dresser drawer, cocked 
like a hammer
over the snarl of my cowering shape
knees tucked, fingers splayed
elbows crossed and raised

​

he snatches
growls
at a swath of purple flannel
ruptures the fastening

​

my shirt gapes
my mother gapes
the drawer 
could swallow this folded frame
i drop my arms
do it,
i say
 

bottom of page