Writing Brother(s)


It was you and me


That summer

I took $100

And bought a Sears electric


A brother in disguise, and

You, a manual one;

It was a Brother, too.

Oh, who would think that plastic

And rubber

And fresh painted steel

Could be so romantic?

If Hemingway had napkins

We had Brothers;

You and me hugging

The table

Our brothers and

The coffee machine.

We wrote that summer, though we were just boys;

I, a novella, of kids running away

From adults

And you, a boy running away

From life.

Yes, there were four brothers so long ago

In that room there.

Because napkins were too expensive.

Only one still writes.

The Brother(s) embrace no more.


Click here to listen to the poem.

Author: dropoutprofessor

A professor of English and Social Sciences that enjoys writing. Hope you enjoy my posts. All published work on this blog is my own. Pictures are used under license from Depositphotos.com or Shutterstock.com, unless otherwise noted.

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