Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Coffee

"...when creaky pipes were burglars..."

Coffee

I never told anyone
how you crept into my bed
when thunder cracked and wind
whipped wet branches against bricks
or when creaky pipes were burglars
sneaking up hallway stairs

How we hid under covers
held each other close
when daddy came home late
and mom called him a drunken bum
and he said he couldn't stay
in the damn house staring
at her fat face every night
and she screamed go to hell
and he yelled don't you ever
raise your voice to me again
and she cried let go of my hair
Johnny please don't hit me
and he said just shut up
you fucking bitch
and fix us some coffee

And you went back to your bed
started to breathe easy
sigh even sleep smells
as that rich dark smell
crept under the door
and filled the bedroom





From One Wish Left



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