Cotton Mouth Manic screams only come from girls who stay silent. She is cottoned mouth always when Papa comes. Grab the lighter, pass a cigar butt Wash her hands of the rice she eats with. Sticky dull and white, like the cotton in her mouth tight shut Two faces alike shoulder to shoulder, panic tinted eyes. A loud call quick slap. Perhaps a rape send shuffling feet over edge of the life, unjust Coward trails after easy money. Smell like new and Vulgar still pays mind to the TV. And the children, transparent insignificant as dust As featured in "Poems Niederngasse. A monthly poetry e-zine with a paper edition published twice a year. |