[Return to Newer Poems List]



S U R P R I S E S

Richard Jordan

Woodbridge, VA
Dad never told us where
he'd been. We learned
to read hotel insignias on gifts
he buried beneath our sheets.

When sister Karen was born
Dad picked up oyster crackers in Boston.
Mom's miscarriage while he was in Tokyo
earned authentic chopsticks.

Once when Karen stole
my tomahawk from San Antonio,
I set her favorite pillow on fire
with matches from the Vatican City.


Richard Jordan

[Return to Psychopoetica home page]

©The contents of this page are copyright protected.
They may not be reproduced or distributed in any form without the written permission of the copyright holder.