deepundergroundpoetry.com

raising the wreck

 


for a time
i lived with
my father

i was around
12 years old,
wasn't doing
well in school

the marge
clueless as
ever about
what to do,

she decided
dropping me
off to the site

like some
divine miracle
would fix all
problems

"not my
problem
to fix"

i distinctly
remember
her yelling
at him.


i think most
people knew
what went on

but didn't
want to believe
or think of the
possibility

of twelve
year old kids
looking after
their old men,

my hands open
bottles of beer
with anything
laying around

picked up bottles
crushed up cans,
broken glass
and china

taken burns
from an oven
trying to learn
how to get food
on the table

because
nobody else
was going
to cook it,

i still do it
to this day
just minus
the beer
bottles

but that's
the wonder
behind it all
isn't it?

you came
here to raise
your own
wreck.







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Northern_Soul Keilani
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