Monday, June 7, 2010

Pastor Allbright

a man the community knew.
A pious man
diddled his niece
under the Thanksgiving table
testing her leg with his
salad fork
and inching
his bulbous thumb
across her thigh.

Slipped out back
through the screened porch
stepping into the
starry, autumn night.
out of sight of the family
and lit a smoke.

A sixty pound ball
of frozen waste
a blue ball of doom
dislodged
from the belly
of a passing airliner
struck the pastor
square in the center
of his baldpate
killing him instantly
his cigarette
still burning
in his mouth
as he lay across the
kid's
red wagon,
not
to be found
until
everyone
had
their pie
and
coffee.
##
Published in Turbulence #11, October, 2012 .

1 comment:

  1. I am quite taken by your lucidity and profound theme.
    Kushal

    ReplyDelete

I WILL REJECT ANY CHINESE OR JAPANESE IDIOMATIC WRITING, AUTOMATICALLY.