Handle the Bucket

.

Friday, January 10, 2014

When Punk-Kids Get Lemons

Father John was a teacher. One day, while hitting my 15-year-old father with a bible and yelling “Stop disrespecting the fucking good book!” he thought back on his first glass of lemonade. Hand-made, a little sweet...but mostly sour.
at 3:01 PM
Labels: Lemons, Poems
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Newer Post Older Post Home
ME
ALL
POEMS
TRANSLATIONS
  • Spanish
  • Latin
OTHER WRITING

(plumb the bucket)
10000000000000666000000000000001 Abdomen Alfonsina Storni Amado Nervo Anatomy Andreas Gartner Antonio Forte Antonio Machado Belphegor's Number Bucket How-To Circles and Squares Cowboy Zeff Dionysius Cato Dr. Neurotic Edward Snowden Electrons & Protons Eosinophil Eyes Father Patrick Federico García Lorca Flash-Cards Flourine Francisco de Quevedo Gabriela Mistral Garcilaso de la Vega Georgius Carolides Girlfriend Google Spredsheets Green Woodpecker Iacobus Lectius Infernal Dunce Jaime Sabines José Martí Josephus Perez Juan Luis Guerra Julia de Burgos Latin Lemons Lies Love Luis Cernuda Mario Benedetti Math Meaning Miguel de Unamuno Missing Piece My Hero Mysterious Origin Other Writing Pablo Neruda Pagan Philosophia Patrum Poems Puppet Master rats Red Riddles Rubén Darío Salt Pillars senseless Shel Silverstein Shenanigans Silence Sor Juanas Inés de la Cruz Spanish The Slithering Gimp Translation Urbano Appendini Vibrators Water Whales Wilhelm Binder Words Yokel
Powered by Blogger.