Oral History

Anxious and full with a grunting pit bull belly

Ready to act and thrash in eloquent explanation of injustice

And ration out the retribution for false imprisonment

In lemon juice drops of sentiment peppered in memory

To draw out the ink washed into exile in her crocodile tears

On the parchment of an oral history, shared yet severed

Into a warzone with a third riche and my newfound swastika eyeballs

Barreling down on my own daughter to trample her spirit like a crazed automaton

Set on perpetuating isolation and stealing ice cream cones for sport

Hypocrisy expounds upon the annals of tempered reality

As I sit in my mummified silence waiting for a judicial appointment

To retort the asp and her twittering tongue entwined upon

The puppets of my unlawful relatives to cast me a bastard pariah

And all I want is a reprieve to have my child and see a life

In slalom of fatherhood and soloist echoed in transposition

Between the extremities of memory and the truth I know as a

Center line to guide the focus of my path upon a love for her

And all her innocence wrapped in the snow flakes of her humanity

I can not howl in vengeance or punitive movements to banish her mother

For abandoning our triad for this hybrid existence with her self-placed pedestals

To conduct the last nine months as an explanation of extradition of her soul from our marriage like a whisper on a pillow of a lover in the morning barking back death threats

In the full voice and tone of a lioness roaring for a mouthful of wide-eyed sockets of skull

To lick the blood from her lips and barge out the door to sleep in a new den

But I know my daughter needs her in her partitioned life, actress upon the stage

Saboteur and zealous sweetness icing upon the proving ground of pageantry for

Mother of the year and I will repress the albatross of resentment like an anchor

On the ankles of the fresh path that I must forge for a life anew