A Wasting Place

My year-long odyssey into the various styles of poetry has taught me many lessons about myself. I enjoy getting lost in the world of rhyming words. There still isn’t one style of poetry I would choose as my favorite to write in. July is the perfect month to create a selection of free verse poems. This style of poetry has no rules, which I find liberating. They don’t have to rhythm, but I suspect mine will rhythm because that is how I roll. One of the poems I plan to share during this month of free verse is A Wasting Place.

A Wasting Place

Uncle Mike,

Sits at his kitchen table,

And carries on conversations,

With figments of his imagination.

Drinking himself in oblivion,

Cursing at the darkness,

A product of his DTs.

He yells at my Aunt Mary,

To bring him another beer,

She complies

While trying not to disturb

His drinking place.

From morning until night

He makes his home

Among the Budweiser empties

And his overflowing ashtray.

(He smokes filter less Camels.)

His imaginary playmates

Argue with him from across the table

After their shift at the steel mill

That closed its doors

Twenty years ago

And stole his pension.

He converses with these ghosts

When he isn’t yelling

“Bring me another beer, Mary.”

And “Where did you go, Mary.”

Like uttering a rosary.

She has become his god,

Because she supplies his every need,

Here in the wasting place.

Aunt Mary

Moves about her daily business,

Wearing her misery like a nun’s habit.

Moving through her day with grace.

The cooking,

The cleaning,

And the laundry.

Providing Earl with another beer,

Emptying his ashtray,

And listening to him rant.

She dresses in black

And wears sensible shoes

Walking to mass

Across the street at St. Pat’s

Where she makes her confession

Of her murderous thoughts.

                                       She never learned to drive,

Becoming a prisoner in her old age,

Collecting antiques,

In the wasting place.

Who is Molly Shea?

Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures, click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!

The Weatherman’s News
I suspect mine will rhythm because that is how I roll. One …
A Persistent Pest
I suspect mine will rhythm because that is how I roll. One …
Trying to Age Gracefully
I suspect mine will rhythm because that is how I roll. One …
Shattered Window
I suspect mine will rhythm because that is how I roll. One …

Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

One thought on “A Wasting Place

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: