image from caranddriver.com
Fun House Blues
“You ask me to write you a poem, and I pen you
an empty ocean as you run away.”--Janim Disie.
My father was a petty criminal. He went to prison
for robbing a gas station when I was ten. He was
killed in jail in a dispute over cigarettes. My mother
was an addict and a prostitute, who abandoned my
older sister and I when I was twelve. My sister and I
lived on the streets until she was murdered while
turning a twenty dollar trick.
After foster homes, I went out on my own at 16. I
joined a band of car thieves. I could break into a car,
hot wire it and be gone in three minutes. I was driving
a 700 hp. Dodge Charger when it took the cops two
hours to run me down. I ended up in the hospital
handcuffed to the bed. You know, sometimes the great
bones of my life feel so heavy.
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub