First and Last and Always

I only saw my father laugh a couple times.

Once,

when I accidentally learned
how sharp a broken ash tray
is on pre-teen skin
while taking the trash out
at 2AM on a 10th grade school night.

"I had to take your mom to the hospital
one night for doin' that same thing",

sitting,
indian style
on a rented hardwood floor
in his living room/
bedroom
where it smelled like porn.

And then
one other time;

When his two daughters
grew up
champions:
washed
of

the scum in the way,

with boots made for
first wave punk
and vital female
hearts
capped
in junkyard copper,
brighter than
anti matter

and ready for the bombs
that humans
build for each other.



The poor know true love

The desperate live for and by

Almost nothing for family. 

Other than that 

We're no longer human.