He came to us weekly for check-ups and drugs.
He said If I had known I would have stayed in Puerto Rico.
He said I just wanted to see the world.
I said You have the same last name as a famous artist.
He said I hear that all the time.
He said I should learn to paint.
I said Yes
(What else was there to say?)
He baked us cookies on holidays.
We surreptitiously slid them into the trash.
We didn’t know anything back then.
Linda Blaskey grew up in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas and now lives on the flat lands of southern Delaware on a small horse/goat farm. Most of her poems are started while she is cleaning stalls. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies including Kestrel, Gargoyle, Hartskill Review, and Best New Poets 2014. She is poetry editor for The Broadkill Review and coordinator for the Dogfish Head Poetry Prize.