My poem was just published by Hare’s Paw Literary Journal. Here it is:

Shibboleth by Steven Deutsch

​

“You even changed

the names of the fucking streets,”

Andy told us over beers

a few weeks after he’d come home.

​

It was not the homecoming

we imagined—

a ticker tape parade perhaps—

the high school marching band,

cheerleaders, and the glee club

when our Most Likely to Succeed,

1992, made his way back home.

​

Instead, he crept back,

like a dog too often beaten,

nursing a fragile recovery

from the drug of the month club—

living with his mom,

and reporting to a parole officer

he had once dated.

​

“It’s all changed,”

Andy told us,

as we sat in a bar that hadn’t

changed in thirty years—

same worn booths,

stale peanuts,

bottled Buds.

​

“And the people,”

he said, followed by a terrific swig

that had his Adam’s apple

dancing—

“it’s as if they’ve forgotten

how to talk—

and communicate

in grunts, grimaces

and shrugs.”

​

I grunted.

Bobbie burped—

his burps

were legendary.

Not a grimace

in the group.

​

“I remember that burp,”

Andy said with the laugh

we knew so well.

He shrugged,

added a wink,

and bought the next round.