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Eight Dollar Dumb Dad Got up at 5:30 the fog slowed the flow, the brights were useless, the crawling red tail lights and boring right hand white line the only navigational tools. Your school finally arrives, later than usual, and I ask, as usual: Got any money? Nope. Ok, here's eight bucks. The smile is plenty of thanks. I love you's exchanged. Fogged in I think, great kid! Pick up at 3:30 Day go ok? Yea. Hungry? Yea. You buying? Nope. You got eight bucks! I used it. Flustered, On what! A kid who was hungry and didn't have lunch. No fog now, clearly great kid, clearly dumb dad. What's to say, except, I'll buy.. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Sandra J Kelley On Date: 2003-11-04 11:27:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.22222
Paul, You should be very proud of your kid. I like the poem very much the direct clear language and the short lines help to keep the reader moving through the story. keep on writing and I look forward to seeing your name on my list again. Sandra