sick day
Steve Barichko
playing hooky from work wife and kids
gone since seven this morning
i drove through new haven to park
at union station and walk whalley avenue
in the cold collar up
on my bomber a college girl
in rosegold knit and leggings blushes
past me on the sidewalk turns to look
as i duck into crown fried chicken
two old black guys sitting
on the ledge of the attorney’s office
across the street shit talking get quiet
when i come back out
finishing my drumstick in the cold
greasy paper plate catching the wind
between the dumpster and the building
i light a cigar and as i pass them one mumbles
now this motherfucker here
i pass a woman
as the wind picks up hear her
drop her bag her baby cries in the stroller
i turn around into it her hair
in her face stroller top blown up blankets blown
off him and i pick up her things
and cover her son tell her
my favorite thing is my daughter
waking me up in the middle of the night
just to say hi
she says the obligatory
she must be very lucky
and a part of me knows
i’ve still got it
Steve Barichko is from Connecticut. His work has most recently appeared in The Closed Eye Open. His first full length poetry collection, Apocrypha, will be out mid 2024. Find him on Insta and Twitter @stevebarichko.