Tuesday, November 10, 2009

These Rivers, I See.

Like rivers folding,
Like rivers crossing,
My mother told me I could not have anymore
That was the day I mourned the loss of books,
Every kind of books,
Big ones and little ones,
All of them inbetween.

I didn’t think about him,
The old friend who betrayed me,
The one who became homeless and ate out of
Trash cans instead of learning how to speak,
The one who ate sunflowers and
Prayed silently to God to smite him, the one whose newer
Friends made fun of my suffering,
Called me a cow, a liar, a fiend, a cheater on tests
Of all kinds.

I didn’t think about him,
The man who taught me nothing,
The man who taught me how selfish he is at funerals
And at home,
The man who would only let me use his toilet if I was standing
Up, because he didn’t believe in the scar on my forehead.

The anger seeps inside of me, I can’t even feel the anger
Because I have to pay my taxes, because I have to dig wells
For people I never meet, because my friend thinks he is right
When he isn’t never. Who is right anymore? Surely not the Republicans,
The old men who drown in sorrows in coffee shops,
In doughnut shops,
Dreaming of places they will never see.
He didn’t give me an apology like he said.
Wouldn’t tell me his own name.

No comments: