Together for the Kids

It never works.

You summon
the courage but I’m
too frightening.

I drum up
what worship this
workhorse
requires but I’m
too tired,

self-righteous,
disquieted,
living on
a diet of desire
never fulfilled.

Drowning myself in
liquor and sleeping
pills,
I’d kill
you without regret,
or spend both
our lives playing
Russian Roulette at

the dinner table,
all to sell
a fib,
a fable, fairy
tale sound asleep
in a baby’s
cradle.

You know that
little shit will
grow up, you know he’ll grow
to resent us until
resentment
ruptures,

and suddenly table
cutlery will conduct
itself very differently.

We are
a recipe for
misery.

There’s the oven
and if you want,
I’ll put my
fucking
head
in
first.

Stay
together for
the kids:
it never
works.

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3 thoughts on “Together for the Kids

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