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Hi all, I worked on a new poem on Friday at a workshop and I thought I'd throw it out there. I've been super busy with my MA (we have our showcase on Friday with agents, producers, etc) so I won't be online for snap day...so here is something new! Heather Last Rites The receiver seemed to leap from my ear, the gnarled cord pulling at it like a man left drowning. You picked it up, rescued my father's voice from the floor as my insides swayed, my dinner threatening to return to my plate. He wants to talk to you, you said acting like a life preserver between us, but I didn't want to be saved. The man who thought he could've raised me better than the wife he abandoned didn't deserve any last words.