by Lynn McGee

His father cracked an ice tray in the sink and poured
another shot of vodka, kitchen table orange as lava,

placemats sticky, curtains snapping in the breeze.
I was twelve, my friend fourteen.

He tucked his hair behind his ears, which pulsed with red.
His father swayed, then slammed our glasses

on the table: Drink your milk. I looked away, inhaled
the scent of cigarettes and hickory sauce, and caught

the glance my young friend snuck me, prisoner smarter
than his guard. The big drunk lurched, and we both

twitched. He thrust his arm across our plates—it grazed
my face. He shoved the glass, a muzzle now,

on my friend’s mouth. Milk draped his chin. I chewed
my burger, wearily. My friend reached out

with shaking hands, to take the almost-empty cup.
I sipped from mine, to ease his shame.

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Lynn McGee is the author of the poetry collections Tracks (Broadstone Books, 2019) and Sober Cooking (Spuyten Duyvil Press, 2016), as well as two award-winning poetry chapbooks: Heirloom Bulldog (Bright Hill Press, 2015) and Bonanza (Slapering Hol Press, 1997). Lynn's first children's book, Starting Over in Sunset Park, co-written with José Pelauz, came out in 2021 from Tilbury House Publishers.