<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=527920" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Not Close</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where’s the kid? Kirkehuse <br>asks. She’s in bed, she’s sleeping, <br>Mother says. About time; never <br>knew a kid to yak so much. She’s just </div><div style="margin:10px 0">a child. She’s a yakker and she talks <br>too much. Mother cuddles up close <br>to Kirkehuse on the sofa as he sips <br>his booze. You’re too soft with her; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">she gets away with things. When I <br>was a kid I kept quiet and did as I <br>was told and if I didn’t my old man’d <br>make sure I knew what’d happen if </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I didn’t, Kirkehuse says. Mother kisses <br>his stubbly cheek. I try, she mutters. <br>Well, you don’t try hard enough. <br>The kid just yaks and thinks she knows </div><div style="margin:10px 0">things she doesn’t. Kirkehuse looks at <br>Mother’s head of hair. He kisses her. <br>And what was that about the history <br>lesson, eh? She thinks we don’t know </div><div style="margin:10px 0">about the Kennedys? Mother pulls at <br>the hem of her dress; he sips his booze. <br>She’s just trying to show she’s good at school, <br>Mother says. Kirkehuse pulls a face. <br>If she were my kid she’d know her place.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Terry+Collett">Terry Collett</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=527920" data-title="Not Close de Terry Collett" data-description="Where’s the kid? Kirkehuse asks. She’s in bed, she’s sleeping, Mother says. About time; never knew a kid to yak so much. She’s just a child. She’s a yakker and she talks too much. Mother cuddles up close to Kirkehuse on the sofa a..."></div> </div> </div>

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