and mom slurring
in and out
of the bathroom
lifting the lid
of the toilet tank
taking hits
off the bottle
baking brain
instead of pumpkin pie
just a year or so
before she would
drink
herself to death
on straight vodka
and chemical red wine
the turkey burned
then ended up
on the kitchen floor
with Uncle Frank
after my father
pushed him
my brother offered
to beat Uncle Frank
some more
not because he loved
my father
or my mother
but because
he was a mean person
and loved violence
when there was
little opportunity
of danger to himself
we were pilgrims
of northeast Los Angeles
fucking pioneers
but we had lost our
family Bible
our wagon train
repossessed
for lack of payment
and I looked at that
dead bird
lying on the linoleum

next to the dish
of stale cat food
and thought
this is the way it is
the path
to truth and light
would not come
with cheery smiles
over golden fork & spoon
the bird was dead
he had made it
through the gig
and so would I.

Bradley Mason Hamlin