song of the father

song of the father


come home to my home son,
here is what i provide,
carve me up,
and chew what i am inside.

because of the way i live,
i have no woman to give,
they were kept away,
by things beneath my mind,
they carry away my good intentions,
like stolen babies in the night,
i watch them disappear,
by the moth-ridden porch light.

learn to cook for yourself
because a boy eats to become a man,
learn the books by yourself,
because a boy needs to live in the streets of men,
learn the beatings by yourself
because violence is the life of men,
learn to sew a button,
because there is no woman.

ask me your questions
and i’ll tell you what i know,
watch my life,
and i’ll tell you what i know,
listen to my silence,
and i’ll tell you what i know,
say goodbye to this home,
and you’ll know what i know.

this hard sink is my heart,
these dirty plates are my feelings,
earn your keep with this soapy water,
and scrub until you see your face.



Chumahan