Walls Like An Angry Fist
by Rob Plath
my father wanted complete order beneath his roof
when he thought the phone bill was too high
he’d unscrew the mouthpiece of the receiver
and take the part out so we could hear but
not speak
when he thought the oil bill was too high
he put a locked box around the thermostat
when he thought we ate food too quickly
he’d store stuff from the cabinets in his closet
and so on and so forth
but the thing i remember most was the fly paper
and mouse traps
the flypaper hanging all around the house
with black bean-like flies melted into the amber
glue, sometimes the wings buzzing still
and the mice sqealing on the paper and him
crumpling it up in a ball and squeezing it hard
and throwing it into the garbage bag
while we sat in our cold rooms with the walls
around us tightening like an angry fist
