i remember the time i picked up the kids
when they were about 8 or 9.
i wasn’t in the picture,
but only on the outside.
i had taken them camping
for a weekend.
when it was time
to take them home,
the youngest one
just started to cry his brains out.
i had no idea
what brought that on.
about two years later,
i traveled back and forth
from ripley ny
to warren pa –
for what they call that sharing kinda thing
in these kinds of things
to have them for the weekends.
this routine went on
for quite awhile,
and both had finally opened up
as to what was happening.
i knew i was just a nobody,
and nobody would listen.
i simply told them,
“you have to talk to someone that is important.”
i finally got a call
from social services
when the kids were 12 and 13.
that’s how i got those boys.
betrayal is the word these days:
a nobody poet in the eyes of mainstream
trying to show
how to dissolve
a few more spurs on the heels of life.

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