As their son,
I'm acutely aware that my parents
fear me.
They're afraid because I'm everything they raised me to be.
They're afraid because I'm everything they raised me not to be.
I'm the product of a failed attempt at suburban life,
a mixture of the 80s punk-rock *****
and a scrappy smart-*** *******,
almost perfectly blended
like chunky peanut butter.
They're afraid
because I have my mother's "Devil-May-Care" attitude
and my dad's endless charm.
I made a Pick and Mix candy bag
of their traits
until I created a boy who is everything they fear.
The fear what I stand for,
and the reactions I invoke in other people,
and the looks I get in public.
They fear my body,
surgically altered
until it's not the child they created,
but the creature I did.