In The Democracy
       

My father went to the mirror
every morning half naked
and scraped cream
from his beard. He flexed
both biceps, blue
plastic razor puny
in his fist. His face
half cream, half red
and clean, he made
a beast-face to make
me shriek laughing.
He believed
that he was joking.

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Copyright © 2016 Colleen O'Brien All rights reserved
from Spool in the Maze
New Michigan Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission