I wrote this five or six years ago, based off a discarded picture.
First it was a cigarette.
I can still see him from the lights of the kitchen
through the paneled glass,
but the burning tobacco seems to illuminate him as a person
the way 60-watt bulbs never could.
He spilled a bit of wine on his shirt earlier,
about the size of a quarter.
It gives him the perpetual look of being freshly shot.
That coupled with the plain white shirt and jeans
make him look like the unfortunate result of a gang clash.
He's probably on his fourth glass of wine.
Smoking and drinking beyond the redemptive reach of the light,
the burning end of my brother-in-law.
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