serial poem Ken and Milly

Ken and Milly Sat on the Usual Couch (Serial 10)

Posted on by Esther Cohen / 3 Comments

Ken and Milly both sat down on the Usual

Couch, an innocuous blue, in a material that was

a blend of god knows what. They sat right next

to one another the way they always did.  Both

of them were smoking.  Their bodies didn’t touch.

A coffee table with a glass top and steel legs was right

in front of them.  The usual two dishes of individually wrapped

mint hard candies and mixed nuts were in the middle of the table,

easy to reach.  Ken was not a talker.  Not ever.  More a presence,

one of those men who was right there.  Who was this man

Milly wondered to herself who she thought she knew so well.

OK she said.  Now tell me.  She didn’t feel as mad

as she had at the police station.  What in the world

Did You Do?

choices/County Route 20/serial poem Ken and Milly

When They Got Home (Serial 9)

Posted on by Esther Cohen / 2 Comments

Ken and Milly were both smoking cigarettes

when they got out of the police car.  They walked up

the six stairs in front of their house both of them

saying absolutely nothing but the minute they walked

inside the door two doors really a screen first and then an old wooden

door Milly shouted and she was not a shouter What In The World

Did You Do?  I’m an embezzler Ken said and in a funny way

Ken who was a simple man, humble even Ken looked proud of himself.

Milly couldn’t believe this.  They’d been married 48 years.  Her

husband who she’d seen every single day who she knew inside out

her husband was an embezzler?  What in the world had

he taken?  And why?  How could there be a part of him

she just didn’t know?

serial poem Ken and Milly

Milly Pays the Bail Bond But She Doesn’t Want To (Serial 8)

Posted on by Esther Cohen / 5 Comments

Ken didn’t look Milly in the eye.  He usually did.  She

could tell he was embarrassed.  He was not easily embarrassed.

He’d grown up on the streets of the Bronx. At that moment

Milly wondered if every single thing she knew about him

for all those years and years was just a lie.  He was a gruff

man with no soft sides.  He’d never once given her flowers or

told her she looked nice or just held her in his arms for no reason.

Even so they’d been together ever since they were young.  They

weren’t young now.  She knew that whatever he had done

no matter how horrendous, and she was hoping it wasn’t horrendous,

she would stay with him forever.  When the Sheriff said the bail

was one thousand dollars Milly, who held onto every nickel as long

as she could, just said OK.   Ken looked relieved and the two Toms

drove them home.  In the police car no one said even one word.

 

serial poem Ken and Milly

Milly Got into the Police Car With The Two Toms (Serial 7)

Posted on by Esther Cohen / 1 Comment

Milly Got Into the Police Car with the Two Toms

and she didn’t know what to say so she

chain smoked asked about their families but she

was so worried about Ken she didn’t hear their

answers: various versions of fine.  Finally when they

arrived at the police station in downtown Catskill maybe

fifteen minutes that seemed forever she got out of the car

forgetting about her bad knee entirely she just got right out of the car

bounded actually  ran into the station and there, right there

sitting in a room with buzzing fluorescent lights,  an innocuous

chair, that color of green, there right there smoking a Pall Mall

as innocent as can be, there was Ken.  Milly walked over.  Ken

did not stand up.  What did you do?  she shouted.  Nothing he said.

Absolutely nothing.   She did not believe him.

 

serial poem Ken and Milly

The Two Toms Talk to Hilda (Serial Novel Part 6)

Posted on by Esther Cohen / 1 Comment

Tom Euell and Tom Dunne had been friends

in high school and now they were both policemen.

Tall and short, they liked one enough well enough

to socialize with their wives twice a year.  Barbecue.

Tom Euell spoke more than Tom Dunne.  They were

young. Most of their job involved traffic tickets and alcohol.

They often stopped drunk speeding teenagers.

That was mostly what they did.  Tom Euell looked at Hilda

smoking nervously in her aunt’s rocking chair.  He asked her a question

and he knew what her answer would be.  “Is Ken home?” he said.

His voice shook a little.  Hilda, who often looked worried, looked

more worried now.  “He’s working,” she said.  “Double time on

Saturdays.”  “No he isn’t,” said Tom with certainty.  “He’s down

at the police station.  We can take you there.”  “What happened?”

asked Hilda.  She could barely speak.  “He’ll tell you,” Tom said.

County Route 20/serial poem Ken and Milly

Ken and Milly (Serial 5)

Posted on by Esther Cohen / 1 Comment

One day the police came to the door.  Big Tom and Not So Big Tom.

Partners for years.  Ken and Milly knew them both.

Milly was sitting on her favorite rocking chair that had belonged to

her Aunt May.  Ken was out in his truck.  When he worked

on Saturdays his pay was double.  Ken was a Teamster.  He

never went to meetings.  Milly was actually smoking a cigarette.

She didn’t smoke often.  Just once in a while to unwind.  She’d had a

hard week. A nurse in a Catholic hospital in Albany,  she felt there

were never enough nurses for the patients.  She often felt torn in two.

Milly smiled at the Toms.  But they did not smile back.

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