Frying pan crackles

with burning eggs

backdoor open for air

2 am on a Saturday night

or was it a Sunday morning?

My Father's drunken return

from a local dance

His eyes like knives

face like an erupting volcano

His anger rises.....

Slowly it explodes!

At my Mother--a dark rage

while we trembled

in our beds upstairs

angry words cut the walls

poured hate into the floor

till about 5 am

They both growled to bed

waking up the next afternoon

he smiled and says

" What is her problem?"

Till another night

at the local dance

when the Booze kings

Caressed him with their lies

and my Father

is back at the kitchen again

volcano slowly rising.....