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The Catalyst


 The Catalyst  


I remember the taste of floor wax

Tiny splinters in my small hands

Kept me from praying that night

I knew then God was useless to me

I knew then He was gone


I remember the sound of my fathers’ voice

He was a musician a singer a composer

He sang to me of a loss

I could not understand

His rough music 

His intonations 

I was a child


I was alone at nine

My sister and me

She was four 

I loved her so much


Our mother moved us far away

A new start

A new life


I felt like a fugitive


As if I had done

something wrong


Something criminal


It was my fault wasn’t it?


I was the catalyst 


FROM: SUGAR

Steve Szewczok 

NEOPOIESIS PRESS 2012


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William

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I remember this so well. So intimate. This book is such a powerful character write.


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