[return to Contents Page]

Francis Masat

Saturday Night Party at my Uncle's

another crowded bare-bulb Saturday night party runs into the drain full of bottle caps and butts and voices grind higher until the shout of you-son-of-a-bitch and a bottle flies from someone’s hand and intercepts my father in the small of his small back the bottle bouncing clunks to the linoleum floor and spins my head replays what I have seen and running out into the dark cold night to the sounds still roaring at the mill I want to go home now

Orion –
his arm raised
against a full moon