Brown Jug

Brown Jug Crash! Two cars collide, leaving nothing but aluminum accordions and the ruins of extra metal. Burnt rubber clings to the breeze. 6 a.m. and I’m wide awake. Staring out the window. It’s Saturday. Mercedes, brand new of course. Papa’s ‘92 Grand Marquis. I find myself outside cold and in thin thready pajamas, leaning over a pile of scraps. Papa returned home from a late night drinking, still got that whiskey stuck on his breath. Hungover. Headache. Standing by the ruins, “I’m so sorry” But the Mercedes man has already passed. Pleading and Begging for forgiveness. But he will never be forgiven by the man’s life who he took, on that dark December morning. He passes his old car. “Nothing but a piece of shit now.” Ambulance; the sirens wailing from a distance, but Papa doesn’t wait none, in his bed and off to sleep. And how he slept, I will never understand With an innocent man’s remembrance laying outside our house on this dark December day. Two cars collide. Once his lovin’ old friend, now nothing. So God please Mama prays, give Papa one bright December day.