Last Poem for Father

by Laura Howat

 Devil doesn’t take a break
 Plenty of tricks has he
 You’d think I’d learn
 But he’s much smarter than me
 As he’s always reminding
  
 I was tough when little
 Wasn’t scared of fairy tale monsters 
 Faced a real one every day
 We called him Father
  
 Tricked Mom into full time job
 To support his college dreams
 She also tended three young ones, cooked and cleaned 
 Living in a trailer
 Beatings kept us towing the line
 Father our jailer
  
 For his son castration
 For his daughters evisceration
 Wife obliteration
 Moved us to isolation 
 Then left with a smirk
 Her with no schooling  money  pride or work
  
 Tricked me last year
 With his crocodile tears
 Regrets make peace healing
 Instead trauma and double dealing
 Let him into my home
 Housed him fed him cleaned up after
 Said I must care for him who gave me life
 My only memories abuse  abandonment  strife
 He parked at table head
 Pontificating about the ways mom raised me wrong as he broke his bread
 Expecting kingly exaltation
 Should bow to his wisdom or I’m destined to have my own sons turn from me  eternal damnation
 Disguised his talking flames
 Felt the incineration just the same
 Simple things like my asking not to wear hiking boots inside
 Instead he stomped and clomped and ground his dirt into cream carpet refusing to abide
 And stared and dared me to say more
 Took all my will and a crowbar to get him out the door
  
 Tricked me again
 Big birthday envelope
 Curiosity kicked in 
 Hoped for some sentiment
 But a used calendar now that the close of year is evident
 His scribblings and past appointments
 Plus three pages both sides of single spaced rage
 Even mocking maternal grandma I never met who died at a young age
 Need to be told where my bad seed comes from
 With love Dad
 Wanted to burn it in a fire  spit  swear   rip to shreds
  
 Not worth the ceremony so with a sigh tossed it in the trash instead
  
 Dad  Father
 Don’t call him those anymore
 Just the Devil to me
 And I want to be free
 Hope this is the last poem of blame
 To Gordon 
 His given name
  
 Now I’ve done a trick myself
 A lifetime to accomplish
 Deleted his voice message without listening
 To me a homage 

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