It was never right, never right
any more than like the cheap garden
in which I grew up like a weed
poor and brown for eighteen years
hardly wishing to breathe
Daddy you tried to kill me
but you died before you had time
baskets full of stone, a bag full without God,
Ghastly face with one double chin
Big as a hang mans rope.
There were a dozen or more homes
So I never could tell where we lived
put your roots or you fat feet,
You never could talk to me
Your tongue stuck in your throat.
You have always frighten me
with your fat belly and yellow teeth
with no neat mustache
and those Aryan eye, bright blue,
Thief and robber of the family.
You stand at the gum machines
father, in the picture I know of you
That double chin and large feet
No less the devil, no one any
less than a onyx man who
Bit my pretty blonde hair in two.
My red heart grew then they buried you
At twenty I tried to kill myself
and get away, away, away from you.
I thought even just my bones enough.
They pulled me out the grave
And put me back together with glue
Then I knew what to do.
I imitated you, a woman with
a belly and fowl mouth.