They had very few
Conversations of any import,
Mostly directive affairs
Where the father talked
At the son, but he remembers
That one time his father told
Him he really liked his
Perspective on self-sufficiency.
Until the day he died,
His father never realized he
Didn’t mean leaving people to
Fend for themselves against
Ruthless corporations and
An inhumane ruling class.
He could never explain,
Some doors just aren’t open.
No amount of influence, number of
Titles, material riches, or
Adulation from the connected
Matters to those who don’t
First feel important inside.
Conquering the highest peaks,
Mastering the most arduous disciplines,
Vanquishing the most threatening foes,
None of it matters to those who don’t
First feel adequate inside.
Overcome the most formidable
Opponent possible, the one creating the
Waves of insecurity and trepidation,
The only entity who can tend to
These matters, you.
Mile after mile of
Abject gloom,
Not a glimpse of
Sunshine.
They keep walking,
Knowing they will
One day arrive.
An unwelcome presence insinuated itself
Into an otherwise happy life, sat
Down without asking, made itself
Comfortable though uninvited.
It demanded constant attention and
Care, devoured focus and energy,
Diverted thoughts and disarranged
Routine without caring a whit.
In a moment of inspiration, eyes closed,
Imagination expunged it from the picture,
Life lived without glancing in its
Direction as it showed itself out.
Unwittingly,
Irrevocably
Steeped in a
Culture that rewards
Superficial displays of
Bluster masking
Crippling insecurity.
A child flexing his muscle,
Immersed in the language and
Lifestyle of violence,
As if nothing;
Perpetuating misery,
Dysfunction.
Normal, average,
Middling, standard,
Tolerable, humdrum,
Garden variety mediocrity.
Common tyrants
Trampling promise.
Dime a dozen
Sullen orthodoxy
Hit me with your
Unexceptional best,
Banal executioners,
Unremarkable.
It is the tone of the letter
That is initially off-putting.
Reading on,
Nothing changes.
It’s the same thing
As always…
Words intended
To hurt,
From someone already
In that state.
They robbed him of
His trust, took away
His safety, denied
Him kindness, replaced
It all with harsh words
And threats of pain.
He likes to pretend
That everything’s okay
But he thinks and behaves
In ways that mirror
What he went through,
Perpetuating the cycle.
It’s not that he
Wants to be this way,
It’s that he believes he has
No other choice,
To interrupt it would mean
Reliving the horror.
He wasn’t always this way,
There was a time when he
Woke up with dreams of
Peace and love,
Vast horizons beckoning,
The joy of discovery,
Hope for a better world.
When the first windfall
Came his way, he pushed
Everything else aside,
The optimism, delight,
Crushed by the weight of
The fear of losing it all.
I’m walking down the street
And I see a pigeon, the
Same one that hangs out
Around here all the time.
I say hello and we start
Having the best conversation
Ever, about anything
And everything.
I like talking with him,
He’s the only one who
Actually listens to me.