Poem: No More Lunches With Dad

It takes a Big Man to
blame everything on a woman and child.
He takes no responsibility for his actions.

My Father and Mother
have exactly one thing in common
(besides me)
They are both incapable of
taking responsibility for their actions.
No apologies to be heard.

One of the proudest days of my life,
was when I began to take responsibility
for my actions.
All of them.
Good and Bad.
Right and Wrong.
Past and Future.

He cannot hear what I say.
Demands fealty
where none has been earned.
Drinks in front of me carelessly,
knowing I'm an alcoholic.
Speaks the exact same delusions
he spoke at the last two lunches.
As if rehearsed in his mind:
"Your bad childhood was all your mother's fault."
And my favorite,
"In many tribes the son is removed from his mother
and given over to his father's care."
He always says this while
raising his eyebrows suggestively at me.
The implication being
that I am a Mamma's Boy,
for being near her for so long.

Perhaps the best part
was when we were talking about computers,
and he asked very seriously,
"Can hackers get into my computer
when it is turned off?"
"Not that I know of,"
I answered mysteriously.

My request for money or spare change was
predictably
denied.

Should I prostitute myself to him
for the price of a meal?
Some people say "yes."
Because he is wealthy.
Because I am poor.
Because he will die some day.
Because he is my Father.

Fie, I say!
Let him rot in his Hell!

He will enjoy his lunches alone.

See you in a few years, Dad.