Prose Poem

HANDS

by

Joseph M. Faria
 

My father worked in a factory. Every night at supper-time he would show me his hands. They were big, hard, and the color of used bricks.

He'd say, "See what happens when you work in a factory?"

Mama would grow quiet, then. She always had something to do in the fridge. I'd nod my head.

I always wanted to touch them, but I never did.






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Joseph M. Faria was born on the island of Sao Miguel, in the Azores. He was brought to the United States when he was nine months old, by his mother, in 1950.

He studied Creative Writing at Roger Williams University. He published his first poem when he was twenty-three: "The Black Crow Symphony: 4th Movement", Ishmael, Spring 1973. His short story "Threshold" won 2nd Prize in the 1997 CWA National Writing Competition. His first book of short stories, "FROM A DISTANCE", was published in the Azores in June 1998 by Nova Grafica Press. He has stories forthcoming in SNOW MONKEY, and VESTAL REVIEW.

Joe is also the Assistant Editor of the web quarterly, LINNAEANSTREET.COM.

He lives and breathes in Bristol, RI.

Reach him at jmmf@msn.com.



Mr. Faria would like to take this opportunity to extend his gratitude to "Azores Express," for their continued support of his journeys to the Azorean Islands and Portugal.

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