Michael J. Henry

EMERSON DOESN’T LIKE TO GO TO BED

No, wait, don’t leave yet
She grabs my arm, holds it tight.
Pull away, empty.

But you have to sleep
What a lame statement.

JOANNA HAS LEARNED A BAD WORD

It begins with F,
ends in ing. I said it, she heard.
My bad, my real bad.
(Adjective, not noun.)

WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?

They are still so small.
I chase them and scare them up,
squeeze for all I’m worth.