Nixon by Mike James

Some fathers are just bad.  Drink too much. Gamble with money set aside for school shoes. Wear a five-o’clock shadow all day over pale sweat. Make bad jokes to their daughter’s teenage friends. And lie. Lie out of habit and grief.  Because their lips are moving.  Because truly, truly they can think of nothing else to say. 

Mike James Photo

Mike James live and works in Chapel Hill, NC with his wife and five kids. Recent poems have appeared in Dead Snakes, Comstock Review and Iodine. His most recent book, The Year We Let The House Fall Down, was recently published by Aldrich Press. He serves as an associate editor for The Kentucky Review. Aside from reading, walking, and drinking coffee he has no hobbies.

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