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      October 2, 2017Wake-Up CallAlan C. Fox

      The old man who fell asleep
      on his living room chair
      in the middle of the night
      heard knocking at his door.
      He stumbled, in his underwear,
      to the door and opened it
      to stop the loud knocking
      of two policemen in uniform.
      “The neighbors are complaining
      that your alarm goes off
      at all hours of the night.”
      The man was my father,
      standing in his underwear,
      in his own living room,
      at 102 years old, hearing,
      “Show us your photo ID.”
      “Officer, this is my house.”
      “Sir, we need to see your photo ID.
      Some burglars take their clothes off
      To make us think they own the place.”

      from #56 - Summer 2017

      Alan C. Fox

      “When my father proudly told a friend that I publish a poetry journal, his friend was concerned. ‘Can your son make a living doing that?’ I don’t exactly make a living by publishing Rattle, but I do make a better life—my own and, hopefully, many others.”