COFFFEE

I never told anyone
how you crept into my bed
when thunder cracked and wind
whipped wet branches against bricks
or when creaky pipes were burglars
sneaking up hallway stairs
How we hid under covers
held each other close
when daddy came home late
and mom called him a drunken bum
and he said he couldn’t stay
in the damn house staring
at her fat face every night
and she screamed go to hell
and he yelled don’t you ever
raise your voice to me again
and she cried let go of my hair
Johnny please don’t hit me
and he said just shut up
you fucking bitch
and fix us some coffee
And you went back to your bed
started to breathe easy
sigh even sleep sounds
as that rich dark smell
crept under the door
and filled the bed room

First published in The Ledge

Tony Gloeggler is a life-long resident of NYC who managed group homes for the mentally challenged for over 40 years. His poems have appeared in Rattle, Chiron Review, BODY, Gargoyle and One Art, His most recent collection, What Kind Of Man with NYQ Books, was a finalist for the 2021 Paterson Poetry Prize and Here on Earth is forthcoming on NYQ Books.