Thanksgiving This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
Thanksgiving, we were taught,
should include
too many relativescrowded
around a table to talk
about what they arethankful
for, and the neat. But talk
is odd. I’mthankful
for my family. Twelve
said it in ’94. Thenext

year my aunt gave
birth to a stillborn. Shepunched
tears with a fish and screamed
at the hospital walls.Why
did god make me carry it
if he only wanted to killit.

My dad stood in line
for three hours
in November
toget us tickets, cheap, to a
Broadway play. My mother
told us wecould not go and she
tore the paper. Why

did you make me standin
line for tickets, look
I got frostbite my fingers are
bluewhy did you ask then
rip them why did you shred them
atthanksgiving dinner she yells
shut up it doesn’t matter
Iheard her curse. ’95 we did
not go around the table tosay
what we were thankful for. But
we were all thankful for mygrandpa
who did not make us say
I am thankful for myfamily.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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