Wasted Words​

Issue 12

These are the words most useless
to children:
 
Stop
 
                        at the spoon scraping at the frozen drink
                        as their mother sleeps
 
Don’t
                        at the paper skin of presents
                        huddled under the tree
 
Quiet
 
                        at the moment when the phone flutters
                        with your boss’ name
 
It’s bedtime
 
                        at the wet scent of dirt
                        clinging to their clothes on a summer night
 
Enough
 
                        as they pour pale scabs of cereal
                        over the brim of the bowl
 
Leave it alone
 
                        at the rattling doorknob joints
                        as their mother cries
 
Be nice
 
                        in the shared bedroom
                        toys strewn like a rainbow junkyard
 
There’s nothing to be scared of
 
                        when the storm knocks on all the doors at once
                        in the rain-shattered night
 
Hands off
 
                        on afternoon-lit walls
                        slicked with paint
 
No
 
                        at the colorful candy packages
                        gleaming in storelight
 
It’s going to be okay
 
                        when you don’t know how

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Devon Neal is a Kentucky-based poet whose work has appeared in many publications, including HAD, Stanchion, Stone Circle Review, Livina Press, and The Storms, and has been nominated for Best of the Net. He currently lives in Bardstown, KY with his wife and three children.

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