Poetry 101

Sure

I miss my brother sure

he drank Robitussin

washed down with beer

sure he smoked dope

& shot heroin

& went to prison

for selling to

an undercover cop

& sure he robbed

the town's only hotdog stand,

Gino's like I overheard

while I lay on my bed

staring up at the stars

under slanted curtains

& sure he used to

leave his two year old

son alone so he could

score on the street

but before all this

my brother sure

used to swing me up

onto his back, run

me around dizzy

through hallways and rooms

& we'd laugh & laugh

fall into the bed finally

and he'd tickle me

to death sure

<><><><><><><>

By Arlene Tribbia