The rocking chair

He chose the skeletal, vodka and grape Kool-aid drinking, IHOP dumb-blond waitress above ALL his kids. She blamed her tragedy birthed the granddaughter of the Imp Wizard of the KKK. She drank through her stories. A pink robe and slippers And that damn rocking chair. She’s been six feet under for eight months now; he is alone barely breathing above ground. He wants my forgiveness. He sends money he lacks having wasted trying to keep her dead space alive.