For dinner Charles makes soup
out of canned vegetables, he
falls drunk inside
soft carrots and novaed barley.
I sleep through,
imagining him lost
to the 20-Val Club.
Walking midnight
I find in his bowl of cold
soup street lamps illuminating
his potato sleep.
About the AuthorPatty's poem have appeared online at Eclectica, Pogonip, Barking Spider, A Little Poetry, Neologue and Paper Box. Her poems have also been published in hard copy in Red Cedar Review, Altadena Reveiw, Zip Code 92107, and Moving Out.
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