Us Orphans Don’t Get No Covid.

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A few days ago Susan and I began our thirty-third year together. Our back stories could not have been more diverse. She was an undergrad at “Big Blue” on her way to a big city law school, and I was an orphan with a GED courtesy of Uncle Sam.

She was about living up to upper-middle-class expectations, and I was about putting the lie to societal presuppositions. And we’re still having a good run.

MCKEESPORT

Never just
an orphan
always
Us Orphans

Drove Susan crazy…

For example:

Agreeing to meet
for dinner
Susan running
late
enters saying
sorry
and I counter

“Us orphans don’t get hungry.”

or

her news- of- the- day
conversational
gestures
wine glass waving
contents sloshing
left then right
right then left
up then out
to land
in my lap on my khakis
eliciting

“Us orphans don’t need no clean clothes.”

or

try that mid-September
tepid Sunday
late afternoon…
when the sun just quits,
and the wind shifts
and the temperature drops
by a dime of degrees …
then
draping my jacket around
her shoulders,
I can feel Susan smile
when I say,

“Us orphans don’t get cold.”

NaPoWriMo April 2013


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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