your father’s wrinkled old
hands
wake you from crinkled cold hospital gown guilt dream
hospital, hands
hazardous, head
cold
but big blue bed
warm.
you try
to be good, and you read your parents
poetry, but
they think your poems are dirty and
they are
most of the time.
but sometimes,
when you write one down, you feel
so
clean.
Molly Rose Strugatz is an author and artist from Brooklyn, New York. A recent graduate from the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics, her work has been published in Le Petite Press’ Eat/Ate, The Review Review, Troubadour, Antinomies, Pilot Press, and others. She’s appeared on Creative Converse Radio 1190 and exhibited poems at Teen Art Gallery. Visit her at mollyrosestrugatz.com.