Sometimes, late at night

some nights, late, as is my habit
I fight off the madness of my past deeds
they stay stacked over in the corner under
the university degrees and eccentric artwork
of the bloody one,

always ready to remind me of my chances
at goodness, like ghosts they try to haunt me
and taunt me to deeds beyond the pale--one more
affair, one more crime, a fifty pound deal to pay
for the debutante's college or con myself into
another group of fools to be sheered like sheep,

it's the thinking of a runaway kid digging through
dumpsters for out of date sandwiches, of a little
boy running through the mesquite prairies of Texas
from a gang of teenage rapists,

it's the thinking of a teenage boy chased through the
streets of the city by rabid cops that hunted us like
whitetail in the forests--just for being from the projects

it comes from a sense of entitlement for all the shit we
had to go through, a payback for the beatings and
humiliations and tears from a helpless mother's eye,

but I'm forty-seven now and I'm well educated and I can't
claim I didn't know, but

sometimes, late at I night, I think about it.

J. Masuda © 2005
art
333 views 1 replies
Reply #1 Top
Truth is beauty - ugly beauty sometimes. Good job.