Floor by Emilio Aguilera


The house is creaking.

Its sounds are foot and pier
plank over ocean. And I,
in that boat, hide

in the hangover. In its dark,
I find the floor

where brothers wrestled,
or father and son fight,

or the ring mother threw.

And in the bottle, I find,
more ocean.

by Emilio Aguilera

Editor’s Note: The careful choice of words that end the lines in this poem serve the subject matter well. Every line break and image offered reinforces the poem’s despairing voice.


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