Sex and Murder Magazine

By Derek Richards

fear is
nervous maneuvers of fork
spoon
napkins unfolded
folded
timid sips of water
clench the throat dry
pull the lips tight

father is in the kitchen
mixing his drink
ice thunders against glass
tiles howl and whisper
beneath unbalanced breath

my sister is always unaware
of the shy moan
buzzing past her tongue

my brother fixates
on the candle flame

my mother smiles
a resolve to wilt
and stutter
and obey

the refrigerator door closes
footsteps
the smell of whiskey
father appears
sits at the head of the table
cuts his steak mad
and deciding
which one






i caress the spokes
of the steak knife
hum old blues
dare myself to hold his stare

tonight, father
bruises are badges
scars are battle songs
i am the oldest