Without battery automatic operated
Ron rages on in the pushed together lips
And creased brow of a man waiting to scream
Whiskey-powered blood
Hidden in a flask that has scraped on it
The initials of his grandfather’s grandfather
Dvorski name carved out callously
Could have been Dvorak, Dorski, Dvorka
Would have been a disaster
That fallen son haunts you
To be reborn afterbirth wasn’t your doing
Writers are doomed to tragedy times
Once a year you remember
That all the love will everlast
And left behind lives inside
Take another fire down
From silver bottle opening for you
Fight urge to cry before swallowing
Wash the rage down your throat
Dissolve it lost into yourself
Bitter better outlast another swallow
Not an old man yet with thickened legs
Barrel chest shooting daggers
Tolerating & waiting
Mouth open like a word sits unsaid
Slung over that chair past the seat
Middle finger to the minutes
And there is just a daughter left for name
Powerful Ellis Island current through
Rye blood distilled on & up
© Adam Bresson
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