and the run through the pink clouds has
ended, he skulks up the stairs and crosses
the threshold into the dark living room. Sweat
runs down his nose and falls onto the amaranth
tiles designed to camouflage the mud
and keep it from the phony hardwood floor.
On the couch a man watches a Mets game
and a woman beside him smokes Newports.
She eats a Hungry Man dinner in the TV light.
The man owned a sports bar years ago, and on that
old bar top still there are dozens of baseball
cards with his thin face pasted over the players’
all smiling beneath thirty years of varnish.
Andrew teaches British Literature outside of Boston, and has poems appearing or forthcoming in After the Pause, THINK Journal, and Dunes Review among others. He lives in Boston with his wife and cat. Aside from writing, reading and teaching, Andrew spends his time hiking, running, and brewing beer.