My father threw a cup
across the room
It narrowly missed my mother
standing ground
by the stove
When I gaze into that window
I see thousands of faces screaming
The sands of reality shift
in the evening breeze
to reveal a mirage
The portal of my mind
was fractured
a long ugly scar broke
the window in the kitchen
---07/21/2012
If you haven't already, check out Penhead Press's first publication: Randomly Accessed Poetics, Issue 1: The Texture of Words.
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