poetry and prose webzine
His son is weak, he could be gay.
Until he's sure he sees no need
to beat it out. If he should see
a permanence, then he'll be worried
and belt him good for living there
beneath his roof. He should be stone
down to the dick, the rumble and hair.
If he survives, the boy will hone
a better life, no brawn required,
no ignorance instilled by father
who lived so rough and mad with fire,
since he succumbed to an uglier father
who sired his son in circuits of fear
and brunt, with a gender hard to bear.