Ed

I first saw Ed

hanging at Nicollet Isle
on his wedding day, oven-hot.
The hippie couple hit the wall,
turned middle class,
and were looking good.

I stood in the bridal house
on that sweet day,
sweating in the inferno,
scotch in one hand, beer in the other.

Every man knew,
and I did too,
Ed was making my sister happy.

My Ed.

By: Charles Jacobson

Charles Jacobson has an abiding interest in philosophy and the arts, and lives across the river from St. Louis in Alton, Illinois, with a cat who doesn’t like him. His stories and poems have appeared in over twenty publications, radio and Story Collider.