Epidemic

Epidemic

 

 

 

I know little about who I'm from.

            My old man, he was born

   an hour or so south of Memphis.

 

His mother died six days later

            from the Puerperal Fever.

   I've been told she was half-Choctaw

 

and from what I've read

            was “taken with pains

   in the head, soon followed by great

 

anxiety, sleeplessness, and a general

            disinclination toward suckling.”

   His old man was a barber who met

 

a new woman and moved

            them far west of the river.

   When the war came he signed up

 

and shipped off to Europe. Somewhere

            along the way he lost a leg.

   Maybe a German shot him in France.

John Riley


John Riley works in educational publishing. His poetry and fiction have appeared in Connotation Press, Smokelong Quarterly, Blue Five Notebook, Willows Wept Review, The Dead Mule, and many other journals both online and in print.