Poetry

Any body’s Child and The Funeral

By Loc MacGowan

Any body’s Child

 

Violation seems to hard a word

for something that happened

so long ago,

in that twilight age

called infancy.

 

I’m not sure what it was

or the perpetrator’s name

just that one moment

she felt safe

and never did again.

 

She never told what happened

maybe she never knew;

but you could see it

in her eyes–

angry with betrayal.

 

No matter where she goes

or what she does

it’s just there

smoldering

in black and blue.

 

She looks like all her friends

but feels alien

certain she’s too different

for anyone

to understand.

 

Having given up on life,

she doesn’t want to do

or to be anything–

so she parties,

but that never stops the pain.

 

She should be held like a baby,

her face gently stroked

and told

that it will be alright,

but she already knows better.

 

She really doesn’t know

how she got like this

only that she is,

and wishes

that it was different.

 

She could be anybody’s child

but what she wants most

she also dreads:

to be loved

for who she truly is.

 

 


The Funeral

 

I went to a funeral today.

They stood at an altar

and made promises

about forever.

 

They couldn’t know,

that forever is too long

for Godless passion

that vanishes like a mirage.

 

My son, my only son!

the only thing I did well,

my eye’s best fruit–

his spirit already dimmed.

 

How I hated to watch him die-

every vow another nail in his coffin,

irrevocably joined to rap music,

rudeness untethered by pretense.

 

That life-stealing succubus,

will mother my grandchildren,

slowly robbing me of them, too,

who were to be my inheritance.

 

Yes, I went to a funeral today—

it was my own.

 

*****************************************************************************

 

Loc MacGowan was born in Fallon, Nevada. He joined the army when he was 17 and served in Germany and Vietnam. Later, he earned a bachelors degree in psychology, a masters degree in counseling and a doctorate in marriage and family therapy. When he was fifty, he earned a second masters degree, this one in English with a major in creative writing. He is an award-winning author and has written twenty-six books and many poems. For the past six years, he has lived in Mérida, Mexico.

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