sks

When i thought about
my three darlings initials
in order of their births
it had all made sense.

all i had ever done
before, when i had had
the time
to make a difference
or to at least try
meant nothing.

Oxygen misspent
sweat, that could have been
generated by
intimately more
exciting means
years of futility
stupidity
bred of the idea
that we are free
and the world can be right.

Soraya, Katie and Samantha;
in all their beauty
and innocence
unconditionally loving
deep smiles
that could shatter
the Andes
brown eyes that can
melt quartz
minds open
drinking what they see and hear
learning hurt
violence
mistrust
"Don't let that boy pick you up
or touch you, do you understand?"
"Yes daddy. Daddy, i love you."

Tears, always tears...
"i love you too."

Two parents
loving
teaching
holding
crying
protecting
their
young.

Two incomes
Spaghetti for dinner
again.

Three new pairs of shoes
the electricity is
shut off again.

"mommy, why are you crying?"
"daddy, do you hate mommy?"
"daddy, mommy; stop fighting.
(hands on her 5 year old hips)
i can't take this anymore!"

"meow"
"are you a cat
again, honey"
she shakes her head
as her 4 year old
mind
already knows the
value
of escaping

the baby
only 13 months
used a fork last night
daddy is
away
700 miles of
de-militarized zone

"are you going to send
us some more money?
we have no food"

Well, fuck it.
Neither do i.
Aluminum piling high
Sleep comes forced
you see...

Washington wants to tighten our
belts.
Words of wisdom always begin
with
"All i know is..."
20 years of sliding
as the earth explodes
around me
inside me
twisting inwards
i gag
and puke it back out
the projectiles
make
a neat
rorschach
on my wall

on a roof
in Boston
(only got my
american flag
glow-in-the-dark
boxers on; makes
for interesting
press)
500 rounds
.308's
i am hard as
i feel the kick
bright trails of tracers
streaking through air
shattering the roof
of black re-enforced steel

i know soon the pain will stop
blown apart
the meat and emotions
left for a mop
and a hose

as they close in
i know i am solving nothing
just stirring the
shit up

and i know
that

When they ask my girls,
what they think
(mass consumption
of personal misery
makes a great
market)
They will answer:
(and they will know)
"Yes, my daddy was crazy.
But, he loved us very much."