Own

By on Jan 13, 2019 in Poetry

Suburban street in reds and yellows
Listen to your brother who
Fucks, harms, and doesn’t care.
Listen to the name he calls you
In another room. Listen to the
Silence after.
                           Listen. Now watch.
Watch as he struts down the stairs.
Watch his pocketed hand as he
Ruffles your hair. Watch him look
Away as he asks you, “You yours?”
Watch your feet as he asks you,
“You’re whose?” Watch him turn.
Watch as his breathing changes
When mother enters the room. Watch
As he pushes the door shut behind
Him. Watch your mother chase him.
Watch them scramble down the drive.
Watch her beat the car’s windows
With her hands and dustpan. Watch
The Toyota lurch into the street and
Your mother shout and strike air.
Watch her as she throws her
Broom at the car. Watch as she turns
And looks at you. Watch as she
Watches you with your hand on the
Door. Watch her as she asks you to
Close it. Watch as she watches you
Keep it open. Watch the car as it
Turns the corner. Watch as she shakes
Her fists and tells you you’re hers.
Watch as her face goes wet and red.
Watch as she asks you to stay.
                                                              Watch.
Now say.

About

Brooks Lindberg is a poet and playwright from Utah living in Massachusetts. Several of his poems are forthcoming in Lost Sparrow Press. He was a 2015 scholarship recipient for the National Playwrights Symposium at Cape May and a writer for the FUSION Theatre Project for its 2015-16 season. He graduated from Utah State University in 2015 with a B.A. in Theatre Arts.