Pastoral
CHRISTOPHER McCORMICK
In the morning, Henry
called the cat
a little piss machine.
The lawn was dumb
with roses spitting
their fragrance at bees.
I called to the cat
but he gave me no
answer. I heard only
buzzing from the yard,
where spring danced
on her bleeding feet.
In the evening, Mommy
was a mobster.
Daddy was her gun
but his name was
Tommy, not Henry.
We had a late dinner.
CHRISTOPHER McCORMICK (he/him) is a writer from Ohio. His work has appeared in The Maine Review, The Midwest Review, and Harpur Palate among other publications. He teaches in the English department at Ohio Northern University and serves as a poetry reader for Beaver Magazine.
