I knew a boy
that lived
under his bed
for a month
his parents thought
he had run away
the cops had no leads
no one had seen him
during the day
when his parents
went to work
he came out
to eat
and drink
and use the bathroom
and during the night
he stayed under that bed
not making a sound
one day he came out
and walked into the street
naked with a baseball bat
and walked along
swinging at mail boxes
and spitting at demons
that surrounded him
his mother ran after him
with a bible in one hand
and a bourbon and coke
in the other
his father claimed
LSD was the reason
that his son
had gone crazy
under the bed
he found
no less than
20 empty cans
of Scotch Gard.
a flashlight
and some rags.
under his own bed
he found
no less than
20 years of guilt
boxes of words
that were meant
for the boy
and the reason
he wanted to
ignore.
Mr. Quattlebaum: Very well done. Nice hook at the end. Thank you for sharing this one. -G
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You made me look.. I like what you write, but hate what I see..