Will Vigar

poet. writer. imposter.


maxresdefault (3)Kevin sat in the corner, quiet

and out of place and never

seemed quite comfortable

in the bosom of the family.


Always kept at arms

length. The tension between

my elders strong. Too young

to understand, they spat


hushed and venom laced.

I remember the mustard

rollneck tops and Hai Karate

The porn star ‘tache


receding hair

the twinkle in his eyes

and, I’m sure, the understanding

that we had, unspoken.


Not long after, he disappeared

and my Aunt was shamed

and angry. It wasn’t until years

later that i pieced together


the barbs and puffing chests

at the mention of his name

and how the implicit feeling

of camaraderie between us


came into sharp focus

when my uncle chased him

through the daily mail strewn

streets shouting something


about being seen

with another man.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


This entry was posted on June 11, 2017 by in Will Vigar.
%d bloggers like this: