Mum Me Double Suicide Dads Packing Poem by James McLain

I was six and one half peep
hole keys sometimes did
that evening my eye balled
credibility for one so young
eye ball to the hole seeing
strange clear plastic over
mums head studly doright
riding a mounty whips crack
neck snapped I think it was ten
more minutes before dad saw
what I saw that his life as a
politician was over unless unless
he whupped my DNA on mum how
she was bathed before that I do
not know he suicides me with mum.