Kenneth Pobo

Aunt Thruppence

smoked Tareytons
and wore a gold anklet;
called Uncle Varn
a candelabra that only
her kisses could light.
He’d watch a Sunday
football game and bark
which players he’d stuff
in a dumpster.

A lightning bolt got
Aunt Thruppence while
she fished. Uncle Varn said,
I’m sad. I’ll miss her.

Like a guy I saw
at the Vet who
petted his dog
who was about to be
put to sleep,
said, Bye Oliver
while walking away.

Kenneth Pobo has a new book, Wingbuds, out from  His forthcoming chapbook from the Poetry Society of Alabama is called Your Place Or Mine.  He teaches English and creative writing at Widener University in southeastern Pennsylvania.

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