Daniel N. Flanagan Writing

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Posted on January 18, 2014 at 12:20 AM


Cradled in your arms

Nuzzled close to your
Sweat stained neck
She cries
For she can smell
Offended by
Your noxious odor.

She wails
As you rock out of rhythm
& burb with too much force.

She wonders why,
Why her mother’s mouthful of
A couple of teeth &
A fifth of vodka
Smell so

I mourn the loss of
The developmental stages of
My niece
For what we both have never known,
A mother.

Originally published in Poppy Road Review on 01/17/14.

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Daniel N. Flanagan, Writing, Worcester MA, @DanielNFlanagan, The Commonline Journal, The Round Up Zine, Beyond Imagination Digital Literary Magazine, Danse Macabre du Jour, Yellow Mama, Aberration Labyrinth, Pyrokinection, Leaves of Ink, The Camel Saloon, Three line poetry, Eskimo Pie, Dead Snakes, The Stray Branch, The Onyx, Daddy's Girl, Writer, Lilac, Ex-Girlfriend, Drive Home, An Artists Rendering, N.O. Xplode, Kip