Poetry

I have posted a selection from my little book of poetry entitled "You Are an Awful Child and Your Parents Do Not Care For Your Company." It is my way of answering to the accusations of my troubled childhood.

My brother. This reminds me of him.

The wind still carries the gentle scent of Melinda to my door. I stand and swear I smell her perfume mixed with the decaying leaves in the backyard trash heap. I recall she wore it upon her wrists, so perhaps this is "poetic justice."

Detest

You child, you there, you stop your sniveling whine,

If I wanted to give you oranges, twould be only the rinds.

Your tears upset me not because of your pain

but because they produce painful pricks in my brain.

You come into the room with lamentations for me

Assaulting my nostrils with your odor of pee?

I've my globe bar to polish, please do go away

My regret in knowing you grows with each day.