Sometimes, a monster is a husband,
is a criminal, someone you keep
taking back, even after he has been
sent to prison. This monster bound you
with electrical cords and duct taped
your mouth, your silence, a certainty.
Warning signs be damned - love matters
more than his addictions, than bruises.
You had to make this work. Little girls
need fathers. You were found in repose,
a stilled life mother, sister, daughter.
How long did you lie under the brush
and branches, held by the brutal winter
in nothing more than a blanket?
Kendall A. Bell's poetry has been most recently published in Thick With Conviction and Melancholy Hyperbole. He was nominated for Sundress Publications' Best of the Net collection in 2007, 2009, 2011, 2012, 2013 and 2015. He is the author of seventeen chapbooks. His current chapbook is "How To Disappear". He is the founder and co-editor of the online journal Chantarelle's Notebook and publisher/editor of Maverick Duck Press. His chapbooks are available through Maverick Duck Press. He lives in
Southern New Jersey.
Post a Comment