The Daily Dread

Yesterday

Sometimes it's just kind
To not bother to rewind
Random access life




found out it's okay
to pack bear spray when I tour
national treasures 



back to the snake oil
no hand washing, germs, or cures
bad humours abound
if you were of troubled mind
it was strait in the jacket




Mother was forty. 
Father was fifty when I 
was born. The caboose.

He worked on railroad.
All the livelong day. Math says
I was his present.

Gift given on his
fiftieth birthday. That was
my moms family joke.
  
Siblings said I was 
left on doorstep by gypsies.
Children seen. Not heard.

Not the center of 
anyone's universe then
Except for grandma

Mother went to work
At factory down the street
Never felt neglect

Nor did I feel poor
Hungarian grandmother 
watched over me well.

Six of us lived in
Two bedroom home. One bathroom
One tub. No shower.

Time dragged at young age
Yet house cleared out soon enough
Siblings move on out.

Leaving me alone
Youngest still fifty years on
Still not seen or heard