Some Little Inaccuracies Poem by Charles Wax

Mickey was the youngest of six children.
His mother had died
bringing him into the world.
From the unhappy
details of his life I was positive
his father and five brothers
blamed him for her death. When I told
Mickey of my insight
he didn’t believe me. He maintained
everything which had been done to him
occurred because
“they’re just a bunch of rough Irishmen.”
“They made you sleep
in a closet from age six to nine, ” I told him.
“We had a small apartment, ” he maintained.
“And when your brother,
Jim,
knocked out your two front teeth? ”
“I used his favorite Bic pen.”
“Bic pen!
that costs like a dime.”.
“We wasn’t rich.”