A Bastard's Lament

[doplegager]

My father was afraid
of all the things that could be.
And in his fear it was plain
that nothing ever would be.
Of all the things that he made,
I'm the only one still around.
I'm the only one he never claimed,
the only one he never found.

He asked if the children knew about the pain
that was coming soon in life;
All I know is that it's here today-
I'll carry this pain for the rest of my life.
I'll carry the things he tried to set down,
all the grief that he couldn't bear,
carry on with the things he couldn't do,
in spite of my own fear.

His fatal mistress was cocain.
Mine comes from a bottle.

But I do my best to pray to whatever
         gods might listen,
that his death was no more planned
than my birth, life, or conception.
Instead that it was the same
orgasmic lack of apprehension
that brought me into this place
and acted as his execution.

After long hours at the end of the day
when I lay me down to rest,
when I'm alone and my mind begins to fray,
I think of him
from dust
to powder
to death.