Dirty Little Half Breed

"Mama, what's a 'dirty little half-breed'?"

I'd never heard those words before.

And mama got a look on her face,

That same look I see there when daddy

Comes home drinking something dark

From a brown paper bag.

Mama always says, "Sam—

Are you drunk again?"

And he barks out a husky-voiced song,

Grabbing mama around her waist

Dancing her around the kitchen;

Sorrow and pain ravaging her face.

Scalding tears, liquid love cascading

Down her cheeks burning us—

Cauterizing him and baptizing me.

Autumn Leaves