“Hung Out to Dry”
Many, many summers ago,
when I lived atop of Bunker Hill Street,
my Mother dried the cleaned clothes,
by hanging them on a drying horse rack.
Time and a breeze,
were the common necessaries to make it work.
The summer windows would be open,
and late at night my parents would argue.
Other times clear.
A child of small,
hiding beneath Star Wars bedsheets.
Trying to understand the guttural nuance of the word fucking.
Spit forth in anger and anxiety.
I didn’t know what it meant,
but knew it was bad.
It sounded awful.
Violent, and final.
The peace of a post fight is full of tension,
and on occasion my mother would climb into my bed, or my sister’s bed.
Then it was over.
The next day, neighbors would find something else to look at when we walked by.
What I remember most was how dry the clothes were when we touched them in the mornings.
That, and playing hide and seek among the wet clothes just freshly hung out, so my mother could go to sleep on her green couch before my father got home from work.
Published by Christopher Hickey
Welcome to my effort. Yes, as a great procrastinator, it requires great effort to stay focused on something productive that matters to me. I’ll find any old excuse to traipse from project to project, and I rarely end up at the place I started. I find this maddening, and exhaustive. So it is with high hopes, and a greater grasp of self-awareness, that I embark upon staying the course so to speak.
I enjoy writing. Be it blogs, fiction, poetry, etc. I love the craft and the act of creation, the art in and of itself, for it’s own sake and end. I am happy to be able to do it.
Born: March 1974
St.Francis de Sales, Charlestown MA
Don Bosco Technical High School, Boston MA
University of Massachusetts at Lowell, Lowell MA
Bunker Hill Community College, Charlestown MA
DePaul University, Chicago, IL
North Virginia Community College, Arlington VA
Harvard Extension School, Cambridge MA
Place of residence: Somewhere in the land of metro Boston. It’s vaguely familiar and becoming home more and more by the day, but when you come from “The Town” all else fails by comparison.
Favorite Color: I’m partial to all forms of blue.
Favorite Author: c’mon! don’t expect me to answer that, there are too many.
I enjoy memories of playing 80’s Atari better than playing any advanced gaming system that exists today.
Hope to be recognized for my paper clip collection. As well as my 27 rejected applications to Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailiey Clown college.
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