Father, I’m not sure what to call ya. Dad won’t stand,
Cause what Id rather have is a friend.
All my life, you fed me stipends instead of good sense – leaving me to tie up the loose ends of my messy youth and that may sound confused but only ’cause you’re not used to the wild ways a child appraises truth. Im not obtuse –
I always knew you were in cahootz with crude capitalists – you bump fists with fiscal fascists. You can’t cap and trade on climate change – its far too vicious, so fuck your wishlists!
The mining industry needs their free trade screed to feed their growth expectancies. You can’t see you’re greasing up once-green pastures for rapacious masters. Goddamn Old man, you on the attack, got mother Nature on her back when you shake hands with the damned from Goldman Sachs! Matter of fact, something must be missing for you to be digging the next seven generations such an early grave.
Growing up, all I ever heard you say was:
My house my rules sit down behave do as I say not as I do Im telling you Im through with these clownish tirades! Face the corner eat your dinner sit up straight, don’t make that face – you must be a humble winner. Hate the sin but love the sinner. And bulk up, I choke up when I see you thinner than your sister. Chin up, I raised you to be strong so you wouldn’t wither.
Amazed, I would naively kneel, learning how to pray, too juvenile to understand why my Mother couldn’t let you stay and because of their shared pain, I aged apart and away: too shallow were the roots of your religion, too hollow were the suits who signed off on your commission – I’ve been missing something I never even knew I had. This too shall pass.
You were gone too far too long when I was too young too soon for my two brothers and not to toot the horn of my ornery sister but she’s been torn apart too by the same half-farcical patriarchal diatribe that we had to contrive to fill in the details cuz in the end, you tried and failed to be my father, my Dad or my friend.