Ghosts Hide In Our Neglect

I love this.

Southern Nights

Ghosts

Those ghosts inside of you like to hide
in those dark places below, in that
region of emotional neglect; and nothing
else avails against them but sheer aggression,
and a little bit of old fashioned murderous
satisfaction; a simple moment when we cut
them from our lives makes all the lies
we lived with all those years drop away
into that river of shadows where they slide
away into the ocean of our ancient life.

……..I remember how he used to kid me
when I was fat and lonely and couldn’t do
the things he hoped I would
in all those story book charades
he’d surmised for me along
the wayward alcoholic stumble bum
path he’d constructed in his mind.

…….Instead I was just a normal boy
trying to find a father he never had,
the one that seemed to falter home
every evening and plop down on the couch,
sleeping like an Ogre humping in…

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4 comments

  1. I keep re-reading this poem…and it’s making me angry but I only know that because it’s not really anger I feel, but tears coming up my throat and the tears make me FUCKING ANGRY.

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