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"Fathers", "Wreck", & "Depression" by Robert Allen



Fathers


Like fathers,

he wasn’t around much

but let’s call that the 70s.

When divorces took off.

so did dad. To Mexico 

often enough, or at other times, 

a hardened bar in Phoenix, Arizona.


Once he had  

drunken heat stroke

and we carried him to

the tub and ran to

neighbor’s homes asking for ice

to cover him like a cloak

so he would live. He did.


My whole childhood was his emergency.


He did okay though. I’m alright.

I’m also him. I have his voice.

And his eyes, blue as

the sea, blue as long goodbyes.



Wreck


As the car hit the rock wall, all

I heard was the laugh of the kids 

the way they do from the belly 

and the full throated sound 

of your beauty as I spun and 

struck the stones and did not die.



Depression


I'm watching a man eat dirt in The Grapes of Wrath.

I get that.

The wrath,

the dirt.

I get that all too well.

My spirit's in '29 and I never got better.




Robert Allen lives in Oakland, CA with his family where he writes poems and coaches poets to be better in their craft. www.robertallenpoet.com

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