E Is For Estranged

Boys run like water from the barrel to the trough

They'll never stop their running

Gunning for their brothers

This house is a hostel

It is peaceful, but it's always emptying

Boys all want to be someone



Haven't you heard? I am a flightless bird

I am a liar, feeding facts to a false fire

If pathos is borne, borne out of bullshit - in formal attire

Then I'll score you a string ensemble



I saw my son at seventeen

The shutters made projections on his naked frame

And now at twenty-five

He simply cannot stay away from the ketamine

With makeup on his sores

He spends an hour a day composing little eulogies

Sometimes he sends me letters

But it's mostly garbled phrases and apologies



Haven't you heard? I am a flightless bird

I am a liar, feeding facts to a false fire

If pathos is borne, borne out of bullshit - in formal attire

Cue the Bulgarian men's choir