THAT Saturday Night
by Keith Pantalion

At mammaw’s, I wake and wipe
a crusty mass from my left
and block a beam of light
from my right. The flashlight
searches under the bed. I’m left
in the dark, unsure why. I stay
a week longer than planned. I eavesdrop…
That abusive bastard broke every stick
of furniture, plate, and glass before
my mom escaped… without
the clothes on her back. She ran
across the cul-de-sac. The sack
of shit pursued until Mr. Riley
rammed a shotgun up his nose.
I planned revenge for 2 decades…
It takes a while when your eight
Years old.

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