Roof

Dad’s at a conference
in California, probably dreaming
of The Woman.

Mom finally left
Joanne’s phone number
on the fridge.
I hope she’s already whistling
at the fishermen.

The dehumidifier broke
the same day our brother started guarding
the kitchen phone.
It’s been three weeks.
The house is wilting.

Have I got a story for you, I say,
crawling out my sister’s window.

I’m getting used to hanging
on the roof. It was her idea.

She follows
with the Woodford Reserve
Mom never finished.
After a slug
she flushes.

Yeah…

Me, too.

The sun is lazy behind the clouds.
In the late Saturday sun, every house
by the park looks a little
like it’s burning.

I know you love me, she says,
very much. And I love you.
I need you to promise
you’ll listen to me,
no matter what.

Of course.

She takes a deep breath.
Exhales. Drinks.

Drinks again.

I’m… ah… I’m…
I’m gay.

Added: March 8, 2013 | Last changed: August 11, 2014