The Morning After
Her cup of Columbian Supremo cools atop of a crumpled copy of the Journal News, spread over the kitchen table like leaves across the lawn. She stands by the kitchen sink, inhales another drag on a half-smoked Marlboro, stares out the window, not seeing the cracked blacktop or the rust on the basketball hoop.
There’s no sign of yesterday’s overcooked prime ribs. No trace of aroma from the baked yams or steamed avocados. No echo of the scream, the slap.
The silence.
Just her, another grandma. With a swollen right cheek.
Stained window
Breeze scattering leaves up
Any Maple Street
Previously published in Image Curve, August 1, 2014
Photograph from unsplash.com
UPDATE: for dVerse Poets Pub–MTB–January 4, 2018
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Frank J. Tassone 
Loved that you included a reading.. your pauses works so well to express that gritty scene of an old woman subject to abuse… who is the one hitting, the grand pa, a son or grandson.. so many possibilities to find.. well done.
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Thanks, Bjorn!
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Oh, this comes alive with the audio! So much power in the words and in the silences.
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Thanks, Jilly! 🙂
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I like the use of alliteration in ‘Her cup of Columbian Supremo cools atop of a crumpled copy of the Journal News, spread over the kitchen table like leaves across the lawn’,gentle sound effects that lead up to: ‘No echo of the scream, the slap. The silence’ and amplify the shock. Nicely done, Frank!
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Thanks, Kim!
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Oh my gosh, ouch! That packed a punch (pardon the pun). The silences add to the drama.
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That was fantastic Frank, and the recording as well!
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Thanks, Linda!
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Nice audio version!
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Thanks!
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Super poem, enhanced by the audio!
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I refuse to have sound on my computer. I enjoy reading in silence. In silence, this was devastating. Well done.
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Thank you, Toni! 😀
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Heavy Frank! Your breaks are great….create a flow that carries on to the end. Abuse is such a difficult thing…ending in screams or in silence as you shared here! Great poem!
Dwight
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Thanks, Dwight!
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So much said with so few words and great to have a reading. I need to find out how to do that.
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This entire poem is about silence. The abused suffer in silence, and no one is ever listening. Very moving poem, Frank.
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Thanks, Jane! Unfortunately, abuse thrives in silence.
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And that’s how the evil f***kers get away with it.
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Indeed! 😡
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This was so real. It haunts me. Much love to all out there who suffer or have suffered in silence.
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Indeed. Thanks, Alison!
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A powerful one, Frank. The moments of silence speak for themself. It also came across really well in the audio version. And that photo is spot on, Nice job!!
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Thanks, Pat!
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