A White Christmas, by Dan Brady

Betty was a woman
who could get anything
she wanted when drunk—
those blue eyes, deep blue—
but she never stopped
running away at the slightest
misunderstanding. New York,
Paris, Rome. Where was it
now? Denver?
He was never surprised
pleasantly. She never
quite made it like he had,
but that was showbiz
back then. It ate at her,
the jealousy, paranoia.
He’d wait until after the holidays
to clear things up this time,
make it plain he wasn't
playing an angle. Yet
as he shouldered his way
down the winter street,
Bob, like everyone else,
couldn't help but feel
the snow begin to fall.

Dan Brady is is the author of two chapbooks, Cabin Fever / Fossil Record (Flying Guillotine Press, 2014) and Leroy Sequences (Horse Less Press, 2014). He is the poetry editor of Barrelhouse.