It was your idea to flash the crowd at that
Fourth of July parade. And to find wedding
dates on Craigslist. Weird, but very fun.
Sometimes you’re a party watched from a
phone. New clothes volume hair and I don't
know how you do it. Foggy mirror eyes and
I don't know how you do it.
When sunny you eat and scream. When
pissed you crash down sidewalks, hot and
sloshing like a bleeding heart.
My first brush with tenderness was when I’d
puke at parties and you’d hold my hair back
as though afraid to break it.
In photos she looks like a frightened foal.
My mother in heels,
Hair barely up to Dad’s shoulder.
In this photo she’s blank
Gaze and legs half-heartedly
Cocked beneath her dress
Like some unwilling hunter
Whose gun fell
In her lap.
Gabriel Oladipo currently lives in Tucson, AZ, where he studies English and Creative Writing at the University of Arizona. His poetry has appeared in Blue Stoat, Oxidant | Engine, and Soundings East. Follow him on Twitter @gabe_ola.