That Cold and Rainy Friday

That cold and rainy Friday
Night. Father and boy were
In a bobbing ferry going to Batam. Red
Skies with flashes lit the endless sea.

The father’s face was red
With the stench of
Cheap beer. His eyes coated with
An invisible film.

Beside him the boy, all eight years
Of sticks and bones, stood up
And quietly tried to slide past unseen.
He tripped.

And the father towered over him
A red fist raised
To smite another bone,
Another token for the other woman.

The boy laid on the floor
His eyes open
Looking at his father, past his father
Through the empty ferry filled with people.

That cold and rainy Friday
Night. Father and boy were
In a bobbing ferry going to Batam. Red
Skies with flashes lit the endless sea.