Punch in the Face Poetry: "Things My Son Should Know After I've Died," Brian Trimboli

I was young once. I dug holes
near a canal and almost drowned.
I filled notebooks with words
as carefully as a hunter loads his shotgun.
I had a father also, and I came second to an addiction.
I spent a summer swallowing seeds
and nothing ever grew in my stomach.
Every woman I kissed,
I kissed as if I loved her.
My left and right hands were rivals.
After I hit puberty, I was kicked out of my parents’ house
at least twice a year. No matter when you receive this
there was music playing now.
Your grandfather isn’t
my father. I chose to do something with my life
that I knew I could fail at.
I spent my whole life walking
and hid such colorful wings.

(Source: asleepypuppy)

Posted on February 19th at 6:53 PM
Tagged as: Brian Trimboli. parenting. fathers. music. life. poem. poetry.
Reblogged from: punch-in-the-face-poetry
Originally posted by: asleepypuppy

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