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Nov 2018
A quest to watch the 2018 match made in heaven
in the worst of all possible seats
the worst of all possible local locations

smells mix of stale *****, yesterdays cigarettes and ****
oozes through clothing
to no end

Not a seat in the house with idiots screaming over one another
cursing through what has never been considered sensibility
hurling insults meant to hurt, seriously, and they do
to no end

This is where you might have been
all those Saturday afternoons
left alone to fend for yourself with
enough 7Up to ruin Saturday supper.

Hours later, daddy lovingly stroking his ego
living vicariously through your tears
waiting for just the right moment to remind you that
he loves you
one of life’s many riddles

WonderWoman underwear bunched between Dora the Explorer socks
at your feet
curling into a corner after you’ve ruined mom’s home-made Saturday supper
with too much 7Up

The tears don’t come when you cry alone
to no end.





((To: JM in hopes she heals))
I was working on some writing with a fellow poet.  We wrote about some very sensitive issues including this.  This is mine personally.  Other than teenage bullying (water off a duck), I've never experienced this kind of abuse.  Non one could imagine what it might be like for a little kid.  I can't speak from experience.
PMc
Written by
PMc  58/Northern Canada
(58/Northern Canada)   
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