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Fourteen-and-a-half

Larry
Moffitt


Fourteen-
and-a-half

Betrayal

Farmer
Brown



 
 

My daughter runs her fingers through my hair
picking out the white ones
declaring it soft as a puppy�s bottom
and walks away
leaving it looking like a hay pile.
Her work is done.

Stuck between french fries and steamed veggies,
she is prehistoric savage femininity.
She curls her lip and snarls in disgust,
we have to memorize a poem
by some dead guy
for a test on Monday.
 


Copyright �2002 by Larry R. Moffitt. All rights reserved.
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