Wednesday, March 29, 2017


A little boy is relevant.

I said that once in our family room.
My parents ignored me:
they were used to my absurdities.
The dog slept at my father's feet
and somewhere in the house,
the cat chased his tail.

On the night that I left,
the cat was sleeping with my parents
and the dog, well,
he looked up at the door
and rolled over.

(Note: One of my first poems, written when I was around 15.)

Pax et bonum

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