Will Roby


BEDTIME

My father remembers his father
as a cripple. The man had

no legs, spent the day rattling
the kitchen tile

sneaking beers.
My father pushed a wheelchair

until the meat of his hand
bled. This is what I live with

now, as he mopes by the
television. Ella Fitzgerald

asks "Have you ever heard
two turtledoves?" Iíve heard

china crash on linoleum, sighs
in the night, a can crack and pour

foam before noon.
I've heard you crack your belt;

tell me to get on my knees.
I've heard the sun rise

on the roof.



Location: Lubbock, Texas
Occupation: Full-time student
Email: willroby@poetic.com
Publications: The Circle Mag, Karawane, GW Review, Melic Review, etc.
Awards: 2001 Poetry Super Highway annual contest, nominated for the 2001 Mary Roberts Rhinehart grant







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