Teresa White

Marilyn, Dad, and Me


Mother didn't want to see the tramp

and argued I was too young, but Dad won.


We drove all the way to Topeka

to an old converted factory


where Dad bought buttered popcorn

and Milk Duds for me.

 

I don't remember a bus only a stop

sign and a curvy woman in skimpy fringe


wanting to stay, wanting to go.

I watched her sing, saw her break,


saw the cowboy cry.

I looked down my trim blouse


at the buds of my breasts,

and at Dad, smiling, smiling, smiling

at the screen.




[Back]



Page2   Links   Bios   Reviews   TS Publishing   Guidelines