I Was Then A Child Poem by RIC BASTASA

it was raining and i did not
hear papa opening the door

rain was noise and night was
dark and the door had no lock

we're not afraid of thieves
nothing of value can be a target

for crime in the house. Papa
was drunk, and his feet were

muddy and he went to bed to
sleep and there was blood in

his hands. He slept soundly.
He must be tired.

The following morning Papa
had coffee listening over the

radio for the morning news.
A man named Gregor just

stabbed a man in Olingan.
That is the name of Papa

He laughed, the family had
influence. He sipped coffee

and put all his feet on the bench
for more convenience.

He told me in a loud voice:
do you remember Lucio?

He stole my gun. And so
i stabbed him. Father had no

regret. He simply defined to me
How to shape a souvenir of justice

Using his knife and bare hands and
Guts. He is our man.

I was then a child, and my eyes
were larger than my guts.