by Alison Amato
Mom always told me to be home before two a.m.–
All the drunks are on the road after that.
And there we were, a pair of young drunks, minutes shy
of three a.m., using our loud whispers at your brother’s kitchen island.
by Alison Amato
Mom always told me to be home before two a.m.–
All the drunks are on the road after that.
And there we were, a pair of young drunks, minutes shy
of three a.m., using our loud whispers at your brother’s kitchen island.
Filed under Poetry