"Milton" by Vicki Iorio
A poem
Milton
We watched the hurricane on TV as long as we could until the power crapped out and he finished the bottle of Jack. We watched as long as we could until the air became a spooked horse, until the world was fired up with one lit match. He fell asleep, I stayed awake with my mother’s transistor radio and counted the rain squalls coming as sure as contractions. He said he could sleep through anything. I believe him now. I never thought I could love someone with face tattoos. Life is funny that way, serving up surprises— mostly bad ones but he was Christmas. I kissed the tats on his chapped knuckles, the ones that spell out L O V E We watched the hurricane on the Weather Channel— a beating red heart bleeding right over our center. We hooted when the weather guy mentioned our little town. He came to board up my windows and stayed for the end of the world.
About the poet:
Vicki Iorio is the author of the poetry collections Poems from the Dirty Couch, Local Gems Press, Not Sorry, Alien Buddha Press and the chapbooks Send Me a Letter, dancinggirlpress and Something Fishy, Finishing Line Press, The Blabbermouth. Alien Buddha Press. Her poetry has appeared in numerous print and on-line journals including The Painted Bride Quarterly, Rattle, poets respond on line, The Fem Lit Magazine, and The American Journal of Poetry. When Vicki is not writing poems she is either on her Peloton bike or drinking a crisp white wine.