“i had a few drinks”
because that job was so boring

the dolls were just countryside things
button eyes and cornsilk hair
insides of buckwheat hulls

to make matters worse
oh, she was pregnant as all hell

“booze made me constipated”
at least the shit-room was heated in winter

in the afternoon, mother cried quietly
sitting on some old photographs
who were those smiling girls?

“the klaxon woke me up”
lunch was beef and a glass of dark wine

more men who knew some important things
and, finally a dull-eyed machinist
who could sing when drunk

“her father hated me so much”
some bodies were never recovered

later, a scorched cat dragged her kitten down
under the cool, mossy porch steps
they would cuddle and sleep

the willows and pine branches swallowed the cool  porch
so many thoughtless, wild branches probing ignored windows
on the slumping remains of a house she forgot existed

under which
a strange cat
was buried

Text and Images © Andrew Auten – All Rights Reserved