Guilt

 

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.