Bastard and Bite

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(After Corona of a Bastard Child)


He brushes his gums bloody
trying to cleanse himself of his father's smile.
He's never seen it
but has heard it was there.

He stares,
trying to find reflection
in the bathroom mirror,
           in windows, 
           puddles, 
           in anyone staring back.

           and finds nothing.

Angrily licking the aftermath off fangs.

Fatherless boys are vampires
feasting on lovers’ flesh,
reminding ourselves we’re alive.
Punishing them for being so human,
beseeching embrace and finding gore
in the exposed necks of naive women.

My mother's first son
would sleep his daylight away
and journey only at night.

Like his father.
            Like mine.
                       And their fathers before them,

trying to find 
            a bloodline.

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About Douglas Powell (Roscoe Burnems)

2014 National Poetry Slam Champion, poet, teaching artist, and father. For info, books, albums, and/or booking go to www.roscoeb.webs.com View all posts by Douglas Powell (Roscoe Burnems)

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