Portrait Near Twilight


From early youth the boy wished his father dead
the way he touched his mother
and all the things in the house he claimed ownership
his stench left behind
overwhelming hallways and the breakfast nook
pomade and flatulence
his inevitable dominion over all proceedings
homework deacon
master of interminable ceremonies dragging out
punishments and entertainments
to his father they were no different only a craving
for an occasion
to build up significance like an adobe wall slicked over
with plaster lubricated
by the blood of otherwise innocent afternoons and evenings
as they aged they inverted
in terms of activity the length of the swing of their arcs
their reach in society
yet instead of shrinking down elderly his father grew
terracotta Buddha
proclaiming all flavors of bliss from a barcalounger
unable to stay silent
wearing his wife down with lists and petty tyrannies
human touchstone he became
holy quests for specific degrees of salsa and scotch
non-chafing underwear
until she slipped weary and grateful into permanent sleep
thought the son
if the son-of-a-b*&^%h had any gratitude he’d race her
to worms and judgment
the father clung on all belly and horny yellow nails
phonecalls at midnight
philosophical meanderings inflicted on his only living kin
proclaiming his aim
to outlive his offspring through medicinal pickling and orneriness
though he did die
discovering him in bed wrapped in a soiled beige sheet for a shroud
the boy burned the corpse
buried the ashes and found himself bereft approaching retirement
without his anchor of loathing
without the ability to make anything of his own life

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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