by greenmountaineer
the digestion on the outcome is distasteful. TK U MLJ LV NV
Allentown Residential Care Inc.
No, I didn't have to speak any Spanish
when picnic time ended at Allentown.
María nibbled her tunafish sandwich.
Miguel who never would speak any language
drank from his sippy cup, slurping facedown.
No, I didn't have to speak any Spanish
when strapping assistants brought an outlandish
gurney that turned him into a pronoun
assisted with living. There he will languish
as much as slag heaps from steel barons span this
town like his bedsores a scat dirty brown
begging emollient if Miguel spoke language.
A black teardrop driveway never will vanish
on the road to Philly until around
a year from now when her welfare will manage
María's next visit, another sandwich,
and more indigestion in Allentown.
No, I didn't have to speak any Spanish
to understand sorrow's visceral language.
which pleases me no end, since i wasn't happy enough with how version 1 sat on my sensibilities to give it a five and there were places niggling me.
a visceral write, dear sir, that is wrapped around with a story's back-history for those who'll hear it. ty :flower:
your use of 'indigestion' - the readers can fill in 'heartburn' for themselves (you and your layering), and you avoid the sentimentality of its direct use.