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Poem
So now you’re feeling sorry
for yourself? Your pain and
anguish gnawing at you?
Just because to start you
ended up the object of
another’s twisted fantasy
and there were four of you
but then Gloria asphyxiated
you have no claim to sorrow
you were one for God’s sake
and the playground
beat you down
and you drowned and drowned
and choked on loneliness
and fear and pain.

Just because belts flew
freely and love and affection
lived at someone else’s house
and entire summers were
dedicated to you being
locked away forgotten faded
from view and the sled that
your brother John was
killed on so what it was on
Christmas? Would you have
picked Easter for dying?
No one cares that you saw
that you were there
your mother held you so
tight and so lovelessly.

How many homes did
it take to teach you loss?
You didn’t expect Juvenile
Halls to echo with laughter
did you? How much weed helped
you breath? How did all
the weather feel while you
searched for another hallway
to rest your 18 years in?

Did you really think that the
bottle would be your friend
as you stumbled through college
dorms city streets bars and
nightclubs year after anguished year
searching for the bosom that
would set you free? So what love
eviscerated you at 21 nearly
killing you join the club you
were weak and pathetic. All that
poetry and nothing to show for
it. One abortion was too many
200 women too few.

How did it feel to end your
military career in shame?
At ease no one cares poor you
to lose a child to destroy a
marriage to lose your kids
to devolve into booze and drugs
and suicide attempts and ideations
the psych drugs should have
completed your mind  and
just because you’ve worked
at over 60 jobs doesn’t mean you
are smarter than anyone, everyone
book smart life dumb right?

Keep fighting, keep swinging
keep the bitterness at bay
just because he didn’t tell
you your mother died until
after she was cremated
doesn’t mean you have a
copyright to rage a claim
to pity. No, go tell it
on the mountain because
you are just like
everyone else get over it.

And then SHE came along
and then SHE made you pay for
all your sins didn’t she?
SHE came to break you to
strip the last remnant of
a delusional life from your
tortured mind the last
vestige of hope from your
bones chewed you up, spit you
out all those pills should
have completed the job she
watched you do it anyway
how you didn’t die
from that surely only Dante
knows go ahead and ask him.

So now what?  Gonna lie
down, curl up, go cry in
the corner about how your
life has passed you by how
lonely you still are 52
lame ass years later? What
are you going to do
now crybaby?  Take your puny
life and screw.  I’m
done with you.


(click on the picture to buy my poetry book!)
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