Blue jeans worn for days,
slick with grease and filth
hung around the
hips of my step-father,
Caterpillar-brown boots
coated with dust
Hanes t-shirt hung loosely,
sweaty and smelly,
his big ears and balding
head that would
reflect the evil
light of his soul-less-ness,
blue eyes glazed over with
lust for helpless
12-year-old girls
and a smile that
could coat my heart with ice
Now he is old
Afraid of death,
My icy smile gloats.