Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Testosterone

I could

easily change
my train of thought
anytime I wanted to.
I could

stop closing my eyes
so I wouldn't see you
nursing at her breast
or reading the funnies or
running around the coffee table
in your big red fireman hat
shooting every imagined thing.
I could

close the tap on the drip
of my relentless regret
(Goddamit!)
when, in your teens,
I got beat by
fear,
     fatigue,
          frustration,
               anger,
                    more fear.
I could.
I could.

But, what about
that flat leather football,
this tangled green fishing pole,
your Catcher in the Rye?




Avatar Review - Summer 2014

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