Every Goddamn Time

Do I allow you to continuously prey
on her?  Or do I stop you and risk
losing her love?  If blood actually mattered
there’d be no debate. Sadly, family
is a state of mind and you live out of state.

Every goddamn time I find myself
here I have to choose between
responsibility and selfishness
and every goddamn time I lose.

About

Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

Posted in Poetry