Poetry from Megan Huffman
it’s God’s Day
when we have to turn in bottles.
Baby Brother stays home
when Dad can’t look at him anymore.
but i’m Favorite
and rewarded with leading the
cloud of stale, hole punched walls
away from the car.
Dad taught Favorite the skill
of feeding the machine
as fast as possible;
gain money without losing time.
Favorite stops for a moment
to swirl chewing tobacco left in grim liquid.
sweet vanilla rotted teeth mixes with
resentment to be forgotten.
other kids with Baby Brothers that were
allowed to follow along
respectfully feed machines and
Favorite wonders what they do on Friday nights.
sleep at friends or stay behind locked doors?
but they brought bags of coke cans.
Favorite completes her share
when her hands smell like Mom’s a bitch
and only a thin layer of
piss colored pissed filled beds
remain in the bin.
this time being dragged by the hair cost $7.85.
Megan Huffman has been previously published in “Havik,” “Dovecote,” “YO-NEWYORK” and other collections. She lives in Queens, New York with a high maintenance pomeranian named Vincent and a crybaby six-toed cat named Pablo as roommates.