Page 41 of Crank (Crank 1)

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Dad Crashed

Slept twelve hours, got

up for a drink and a

pee, slept six more.

Good thing it was his

day off.

But was it always his

day off? Or did he

sometimes go to work,

mind folded down

around exhaustion?

Did he sometimes

blow off work completely,

call in sick, notating on

his calendar the

Illness of the Day?

No bowling, no small talk,

just plain, empty time,

I walked down to

the corner store for

Pepsi and Cosmopolitan.

Guess who was buying

cigarettes, copper skin

glistening bittersweet

summer sweat. One

look, I was Play-Doh.

He Knew It, Too

He turned, flashed

a drop-dead-in-your-tracks

gorgeous grin.

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