Phitty Marshall Defends My Honor

Relikt

We were hanging around
The monkey bars
Trying to look cool

I had worn my new
Green poodle skirt
And polished saddle shoes

When some boy
I didn’t know
Began the chant

Your father’s a drunk
Stumbling old smelly drunk
Drunk drunk drunk

I was a blinking tear away from crying
When Phitty Marshall stepped in
And punched him

I hadn’t seen him in years
The red hair longer
The stick figure broader

A giant leap from the boy
Down the block who once
Professed his love for me

He menaced the gathered crowd
Cast a lopsided dizzy smile
In my startled direction

And lumbered away
My father’s spirit drifting
Slowly back into the bottle

Allison Thorpe

Allison Thorpe

Allison is the author of one book of poems and one chapbook. Her work has appeared in a variety of journals, some of which include Green Mountains Review, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Connecticut River Review, Appalachian Heritage and Poem, Wind, Snail Mail Review, among others. She is currently working on her first novel.
Allison Thorpe

Latest posts by Allison Thorpe (see all)


%d bloggers like this: