Visitations
Mom and Dad are clear tonight
though they are both long dead.
They don’t know me as I am,
their image of me
has been distorted
by too many lost yesterdays,
to them I will forever be
their young and wayward son.
Mom worries about my drinking,
dad is pissed over the fact
that I hate my job,
and want to go to Paris to write
leaving my young wife stranded
in perpetual poverty.
I’m an old man now Dad!
They have come to rest
in a retirement home in my head
and cannot see me as older than they were.
They have no inkling
of my present self or their own reality.
Sooner or later, my personal demise
will jettison our once shared existence,
then we might well wander away
down separate corridors of time,
still just as clueless
as we are now.
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