Nine years old.
Paperback, tattered,
rough in my hands.
I read aloud,
third grade, simple as a puppy.
“Jesus Christ, Lenny,
you dumb son of a bitch.”
The teacher interrupts.
I blush.
But I know Steinbeck is gold.
Life doesn’t always go as planned
for mice or men.
Goodness is soft, small, furry
as a mouse.
And gunshots are inevitable.
Forty-four. Neon jaundiced skin,
jack-o-lantern sadness.
My best friend.
Three kids.
Young kids.
A wife, a mom, a life
at the edge.
Fading away.
It can’t stay, despite the best efforts
to rescue it.
Courthouse, commitment,
AA meetings.
Talks about getting sober.
Until I am tired from trying.
It doesn’t work.
Maybe he’s tired too.
I stand at the side
of his hospital bed.
Touch his hand.
And the words spill
like the booze did,
“I love you, brother.”
He’s in that shadowy place
on the edge of death.
I hope he hears me.
But in that moment,
I show up.
I beat the selfish flesh
into submission.
Life isn’t a fairy tale.
Life can be a horror story.
Dark, steamrolling fuckery.
Apathetic.
And yet, in that hospital room,
with bleach and sadness thick
as the fog
in the loneliest Irish bog,
there is heat.
There is loyalty.
There is compassion.
There is love.
Even when this world
turns a blind eye,
you do the important thing:
you love.
Even when you can’t touch
the pain
and make it go away.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 13th, 2025 18:29
- Comment from author about the poem: I just posted a new long-form reading on my YouTube channel — the first half of my short story Whoops! along with two poems, There Was a Time Without the Internet and Under My Bed. If you’d like to hear the pieces read aloud, here’s the link: 👉 YouTube Reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kq0UTaJahjg All my books are available on Amazon. Thanks for reading and for all your support. — Thomas W. Case
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Paul Bell, Friendship
Offline)
Comments9
Well done Thomas a story of life.
Thank you.
Most welcome Thomas
An excellent poem, my friend. Loved the title too! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
I appreciate it.
An episodic sketch of a messy life, if not well lived, most certainly lived, Thomas.
Please add this comment to swathes of your poetry - and understand I'm not knocking it.
Thanks, Dave.
This was poetry at its rawest, cos that's the hand given.
I had the same teacher. (Beats me why you come to school, she echoed daily.) Beats me to was the usual retort.
We keep going cos life dictates we do.
Thank you, Paul.
Powerful.
I appreciate it.
Thomas,
I'm sorry for your loss.
Perdita
Thank you. I appreciate it.
Well written, my friend.
Thank you.
Your poem is beautiful - achingly so.
Thank you.
a truly tragic tale straight from the heart...
I appreciate your comment.
Welcome, as always
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