Original Poetry: 'My Little Girl' (as published in Alchemy 2018 in Portland, Oregon)...

This next poem made several rounds through the submissions process before someone finally picked it up. It was written on Sept. 2, 2016, as part of a poetry writing workshop I took as part of creative writing class in my MFA program.

I was beginning to think it would never get published. As far as poetic works went, I always thought it one of my better offerings. But what did I know? I believe I said already that I didn't consider myself much of a poet. This once was proof positive I didn't have a clue, on many fronts, I suppose. If nothing else, it was definitely the most personal for me, at very least. I wrote about what I was experiencing at that very moment, which, in fact, was said birthday. I had no place to even leave a message, considering how everything worked out at the time. 

I'm glad it finally found a home... And now, a few words on fatherhood in a modern age:

MY LITTLE GIRL

by Bobby Horecka
© May 3, 2018





my little girl
turned 21
today

not my little girl
actually
delicate intricate

step- as it
were but still
my little girl

taught to read to write to draw
cook and sew, ride a bike, build a fire, too
my little girl

                                                   until the divorce…

then it was me, I suppose
credited for affections
bruised purple and blue

tearsangerhatreds despised
sometimes I’m glad I can’t see
my little girl’s eyes

still, my little girl
turned 21
today

and I can’t
even call her—
my little girl


(As published in the Portland Community College's literary magazine Alchemy 2018, published in Portland, Oregon.)

My first motorcycle gotten back in 2014 to save a few bucks on gas. I drove a true guzzler back then. It's a Yamaha V-Star. Mine didn't have much power, but I dug the look of it, especially those whitewalls. I didn't know it at the time but I'd be divorced before year's end, and everything I ever had would be gone (kids, a car, a new home and the land it sat on, a wardrobe, a pretty impressive library, electronics, several new appliances, furnishings, tools, photo albums, a life's worth of momentos).  Everything I didn't have on me was gone. A house fire back in 1997 wasn't nearly as cruel. And nary so much as a phone call, court notice or letter to let me know it was happening. I never thought such a thing was even possible, but boy, did I get an education.