Nostalgia for Sale

Nostalgia for Sale

A Poem by Crowley
"

Priceless...

"

               Photographer: Mary Ann Potter





You gave me that look, rolled your eyes…chuckling

Your connection to my heart severed wholly with a rusty hatchet

I wanted to buy that house, my house and mend it neat

The one where a young girls dreams warped and waned by day


Nostalgia for sale……ragdoll memories

 “Run to the market punkin' and get me a beer”
Cigarette perilously close to my hair
“Your mom’s after me to paint the house”
One apple, two apples, three apples, four... 


That top step was perfect for dolls, a book, a kiss, a cry

Daddy’s front stoop wisdom, forming misconceptions, but endearing nonetheless

Rodney hiding under that porch when company came…hoping for skirts

Missionaries chased down the block, caught only in the dog’s dreams


Nostalgia for sale……fading memories

“Run to Green’s for me sweetheart, I need some smokes”

Whiskey breath perilously close to my nose

“Your mom’s after me to fix the fence”

Five apples, six apples, seven apples, more...


Locks on teenagers doors kept Uncle Jacob at bay, drunken covert fumbling

Mom seemed to turn the other cheek til’ midnight knife to balls….reformed, Hallelujah

Carport posts destroyed by driving lessons and dad’s not so subtle teachers hand

Tree house porn scattered by the wind, glossy thighs on mom’s windshield, beatings


Nostalgia for sale….so sweet memories

“Run to Grant’s Teddy bear, my oxygen is out”

My first love perilously close to death

“Your mom is after me stay on the couch”

Don’t be in a rush to get out that door...


© 2018 Crowley


Author's Note

Crowley
In these boxes we call home.

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

When the kids are grown, the dog has passed, the love becomes creaky, our knees and backs blown...memories are all we got left. I've grown all my kids in the same house....now after 20yrs. The empty rooms still whisper. Such a sombering reflective piece...great for this overcast back porch day full with smiles and tears of nostalgia.

Posted 6 Years Ago


The world is wide, the boxes but mere platforms to execute any number of complex dives off of. C, I hear it but can't truly feel all of it, some, not all. Never the less, you've illustrated one outcome of creative choice, creative courage with this poem. Great understanding here.

Posted 6 Years Ago


Crowley

6 Years Ago

Well we can't win em all. Still grateful for the drive by, always am. Thanks man.
and in home that is where the heart really is.. so those memories prove to be priceless no matter what

Posted 6 Years Ago


Crowley

6 Years Ago

Thank you so much. I am rather fond of this one. It speaks a lot to family and it’s dysfunction.

2
next Next Page
last Last Page
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

458 Views
13 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on June 21, 2018
Last Updated on June 21, 2018

Author

Crowley
Crowley

Phoenix, AZ



About
Like to hang out with other writers and see what's what. Have met a lot of good people on this and other sites through the years. Decided to come back and do a little posting and reading. Hit me up i.. more..

Writing
Curfew Curfew

A Poem by Crowley


Nowhere Nowhere

A Poem by Crowley



Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


My Town My Town

A Poem by Crowley