2 March 2008 | Vol. 8, No. 1

Knuckles

Dirt under your nails, Jack said to me

when I cut him, thumb-wrestling.

The tiny wound bled. He called

my thumb the knuckled tornado; called me

darling when we hid in the closet,

giggling, fumbling, splendid. That was the roast,

the rest was gravy. After I threw

the television out the window, screaming

like a train, he ravaged the refrigerator

and ate the beans that we had canned for winter.

About the author:

Allison Shoemaker's poems have appeared in The Pedestal Magazine, Barnwood Poetry Journal, Dark Sky Magazine, Contrary, The Commonline Project, and Admit Two. She is also a founding member of The Ruckus, a collaborative theater company. She can be found geographically in the Midwest and digitally at allisonshoemaker.blogspot.com.

For further reading:

Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 8, No. 1, where "Knuckles" ran on March 2, 2008. List other work with these same labels: poetry.

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

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