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He doesn’t like it here
It scares him Doesn't smell familiar There is dust And debris It is foreign Screams and tears make it clear That he doesn’t want us to stay No where else to go We must make it work Must make the best Of a situation that Is really Not so very bad Why do you keep crying child? Yes we stress Get hairs going gr ay As we think maybe today The work will be done Plaster Electric Plumbing and wood Fixed More time will pass It doesn't track our needs The powerlessness That's what bothers me Yet we'll keep coming back Despite his protestations Little choice we have now This is home
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In the first place there
Was a place where I went as a child who Never grew up But that wasn’t the problem See I always wanted to be an adult Like a reverse Peter Pan The pirates seemed to have More While most people bask in The ignorance we call Innocence of childhood Where people lie because they Are too weak to tell the truth That was never my fairy dust I wanted dirt and grime and rust And real I wanted to feel I wanted able to hold space and get My voice heard As a child it was not possible My mother was on a Mission with us as the tools To be a beacon of judaism In a place that just wanted Me to just shut up They simply closed their ears Their hearts offered no solace So I learned to be ok in silence Learned to hold space in gaze But that was a lonely place In that face a big fella by the name of Donny Presented his dick to a young me In exchange for friendship No just the tip But that was a long time ago Now I thank all I know That I grew up Because now People listen |
Douglas Karson
I love poetry. Archives
June 2019
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