Saturday, April 16, 2011

Go Home, by Tru Dillon, 4/13/11

You can never go home
I tried and Failed and was Flayed and Faltered
Forgot myself, My name, Who I had become

Daddy you mean old Bastard Can you never change

Who used to untie your shoes (those giant black work boots)
When you came home from work, dirt caked and crusty
Who did you beat with your belt
and try to beat some more with your words
though she is now a grandmother twice over

See, verbal abuse still counts in California
still hurts in California

You can never go home
I tried and died and was buried
in my postage stamp backyard
No one came to visit My grave sat empty of flowers
My sisters forgot to grieve
or they had to go shopping for the boys
or pick up cheap beer for some other dead people.
One was busy One was drunk
We are not close now Not even in death
can we cross the bridge of understanding to The Land of Love

You can never go Home
And if you do
You will meet your ghost (weeping and wailing)
On every street corner
and every overpass
at every high school parking lot
and forgotten rose garden
and the one you used to love
and the ones you will never love

You will see the Failure of Family
as you will not be able to escape to Arizona or Colorado or New Mexico

You have sealed you fate
So when The Tsunami Strikes
you will all float together yet separately
to some island off the coast of Alaska
Frozen in fate Separate not equal
Lost to each other Forever