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The Sick Boy at the Table

 

Who knew the sick boy at the table?


who – will do anything

for the sick boy
tied to the dinner table?

last night he picked
up his chair – tossed
it at our window, crammed
his head near broken glass
squinted and then – laughed . . .

who – will talk to the
sick boy tied to the
breakfast table?

yesterday he pulled a
knife from our kitchen
drawer – sliced the
curtains to shreds –
struck a match to light
rags. . .

who – will untie a sick boy
from the lunch table?
his wrists bleed, his hands
are useless, fingers white,
and his feet – blue.

who- will cover up the
sick boy in white sheets?
When he is let loose
on city streets. . .

Nancy Duci Denofio
(c)2011 all rights reserved

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