Sorrow springs, sprang paternal
in my life/youth. Not to be
forgotten, hardly could.
Cogent arguments, fists, weapons,
guns.
Causal to the lead carried in
my skull,
wounded heart to go
along with it. Our lineage
of blood cannot be broken.

The heritage passed on, to my
bloodline
will not strike a chord of pain
mixed with confusion.

Fusing lovehate into one
emotion.
He made a fetal ball
by far a favorite position.
While blows drummed down
from above, music with a
beat.

Alcohol the fifth columnist
in our family, it fractured
minds and bodies all the same.
Fractious it turned me, hard
hands upon a tender soul.
My line will be asymptote to
his curve, close, by blood only.

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