2 September 2002 | Vol. 2, No. 3
Mural of a Broken Curfew
She's queasy over orange juice
and muffin batter rising
while shots of booze
she can't recall names for
bang a cadence at her temples.
There's no apron worn
in this kitchen but last night's
clothes fashion a route—
back door to bathroom—
where she laid, crumpled
like a past due bill
until a televangelist woke her
from a cable station in the living room.
This is how her children will remember her—
putrid with smoke
and bare as the walls,
withdrawing over a skillet
of grease splattering
and an effort to recall what day it is
and why she can't die on the Sabbath.
About the author:
Shelly Reed writes in Norwalk, Iowa, where she enjoys regular silence. Her work appears extensively online and in print, nationally and internationally. Recent poems appear or are scheduled for appearance with Comrades, Sometimes City, Wilmington Blues, and 2River.
For further reading:
See the complete list of work by Shelly Reed at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 2, No. 3, where "Mural of a Broken Curfew" ran on September 2, 2002. List other work with these same labels: poetry.
