Visiting Hours Poem by Bryan Corbett

Visiting Hours



my dad nibbled on a gun barrel
when i was five

my sister slit her wrists
three years ago

visiting hours at the asylum today
were between four and six

i read my mom Dr. Seuss
her favorite
then kissed her forehead
goodbye

alone now
in my dark apartment
with only a bottle of wine
and my thoughts…

biding my time

Thursday, March 17, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: dark
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