Whipping Butter

I knew a good whipping
with belts, switches, backhands, shoes, flyswatters
or the nearest corrective device of choice,
but Perry was catching a doozie
as we went up to the screen door.
We dared not knock,
for the flavor of the day might spill in our direction.
Neighbors in Savannah were friendly that way.
We hid under the window and giggled,
figuring he committed some heinous,
third grade crime.
Third graders could be that way.
He didn’t come out to play.
He didn’t come out the next day.
His brother did,
and he told us Perry got a whipping
for leaving breadcrumbs on the butter stick.
Drunken dads can be that way.


Steve Meador has been fortunate to find his work included in several journals, including Wind; Boston Literary Magazine; Flutter; Autumn Sky Poetry. He will be appearing in many others in the coming months. His chapbook, A Good Sharp Knife, was released by Pudding House Publications, which will release Pack Your Bags later this year.